


Between You And Me

by HollyLyn1217



Series: Between You And Me [1]
Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyLyn1217/pseuds/HollyLyn1217
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When friendship becomes something more and is tested by outside influences can two souls remain true or will the fates step in and divide them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between You And Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anyone ... damn it! It's all fictional and just for fun.

### Between You And Me

**Holly Lyn**

** &&&&&&& **

            The sound of a door opening and the soft squeak of rubber-soled shoes woke the man sleeping in the uncomfortable plastic chair with a start.  The antiseptic smell and steady rhythmic beeping let him know that he was still living what he’d hoped was only a bizarre nightmare.  He groaned and rubbed his aching neck looking blearily at the petite brunette nurse who had entered the room.

            “I’m so sorry, Mr. Carlson.  I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said in a voice lightly touched with a Scottish accent.

            A strained smile quirked the corners of Steve’s mouth, “It’s cool, Carly.  I know you’re only doing your job.”

            Carly moved to the head of the bed and pushed a thick fall of hair out of her patient’s face.  “I just need to take his vitals and I’ll let you alone again.”  She glanced at the diagnostic machines to the side of the room and wrote something on her charts.  “I’m guessing he hasn’t shown any signs of waking up yet?”

            Steve sighed and ran his hands through his tousled long blond hair, “I’m afraid not.”

            Taking her last reading, Carly hung the clipboard back at the foot of the bed and approached the exhausted man who had barely left his friend’s bedside in the long hours since he’d been brought in.  “The doctors aren’t worried yet so don’t let this get to you, okay?”  Steve nodded and she continued, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours to replenish his fluids and antibiotics.  In the meantime, can I get you something?  Coffee or a sandwich?”

            “No thanks, Carly,” Steve waved her off with a grimace.  “I don’t think my stomach could handle anything right now.”

            Carly put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Well, if you change your mind just use his call buzzer.  I’ll let the nurse’s desk know you might be ringing.”

            Steve felt tears sting his eyes at her kindness and could only nod his thanks to her as she left the room.  Once the door was shut again, he cleared the boulder-sized lump in his throat and reached out to take the hand of the unresponsive man in the bed.  His friend … His partner … His … “Come on, Kane,” he whispered shakily, “please wake up and let me know you’re okay.”  This time he did not stop the tears from falling …

            >^..^<>^..^<>^..^<>^..^<

            Earlier that day …

            A lengthy round of wet sneezes sounded from the small bathroom cubicle of the on set trailer and Steve shook his head in concern and frustration.  “Chris,” he called to the closed door, “you need to tell them you aren’t feeling well and let your stunt double take over the last scene for you.”

            The restroom door creaked open and Christian walked out with a scowl on his face.  “Have you always been such a damned mama hen, Carlson?” he rasped and blew his nose.  The scowl melted away to be replaced by a wry grin.  “I told you already that the way they’ve set up the camera angles, Eliot’s face will be visible during this sequence.  I have to run the stunt myself.”

            Moving into the tiny kitchen, Christian heated water in the microwave and made himself a quick cup of tea.  As he finished his preparations he glanced up to see Steve staring at him with a guarded look on his face.  Christian sighed and sat down at the table across from the other man.  “Listen, man, we have this same conversation every time you come to visit me on set when we have a big stunt gag set up.”

            “I know but …”

            “You ever seen me get hurt?”

            “Not when I’m here but …”

            “We’ve gone over this gag so many times.  Nothin’ is gonna happen.  The timing’s perfect.”

            Steve sighed.  “But you do get hurt,” he said resignedly knowing he wouldn’t win the discussion.

            Christian’s head dropped.  “Tell you what, man.  Why don’t you take the car and go back to the house.  I’ll catch a ride with Tim after we wrap this thing,” he held out his keys.

            “What?! … No!!” Steve was shocked that Christian would even suggest such a thing.

            “Whoa!” Christian held up his hands.  “Hold on there … I was just thinking you could go home and rest up so at least one of us will be fresh for the show at Dante’s tonight.”

            “I’m not going anywhere, Chris,” Steve was adamant.  “I came with you so we could have a little more time together.  We were supposed to have a few days between your shooting schedule and the start of the radio tour.”

            Christian finished his tea and rinsed his cup out before turning back to Steve.  He leaned back against the sink and said, “I know and I’m sorry.  We were gonna take some time off so we could talk things out but the shooting schedule got fucked up and here we are.  It couldn’t be helped.”

            Standing up and moving into Christian’s personal space, Steve said, “We’re gonna  have plenty of time to talk while we’re on the road.  Right now I just want you to know I’m here for you – to be with you … No matter how much of a stubborn ass I think you’re being.” Steve ducked his head trying to hide the grin that was spreading across his face.

            Christian closed the remainder of the distance between them and raised Steve’s head with a fingertip under his chin.  “I thought you liked … my stubborn ass,” he growled with a sly smile of his own.

            “Well … maybe not the stubborn part,” Steve responded bending his head towards the other man.

            The warmth of Steve’s breath caressed Christian’s face.  Christian shifted to close the last fraction of distance …

            //Bam … Bam … Bam// “You’re needed on set, Christian,” one of the show’s assistants called through the closed door.

            “Curses!  Foiled again!” Steve snickered ruefully.

            Christian backed away, “It’s probably a good thing,” he drawled.  “We agreed to talk this through before we did something we couldn’t fix or might regret later.”  He grabbed the shirt he needed for the scene they were about to shoot and put it on over his muscle shirt.  “You don’t have to come out and watch this, you know,” he said softly.

            “I have it on good authority that nothing’s gonna go wrong,” Steve replied, managing to keep his tone light and unconcerned.

            “Then let’s get out there and do this thing, son!” Christian said in his best ‘Eliot-fucking-Spencer’ voice as he pushed the door to the trailer open and ushered Steve out in front of him with a hand to the small of his back.

            By the time the two men reached the area that was set up for the final scene to be shot, Christian was fully in character and ready to go.  He escorted Steve to his own personal chair off to the side of where the action would be and continued on for a final briefing with the other players who were involved in the sequence.  Steve watched as they walked through the phases of the stunt that called for Christian to do a roll up over the hood and windshield of a moving vehicle and land on his feet as the car sped away.  Christian was fitted with thin protective padding on the thigh, shoulder and portion of his back that would be coming in contact with the car.

            The first couple of run-throughs were done with the car sitting still at the point of impact and Christian running at it to gauge the speed and height of the leap he was going to have to make.  Once everyone was satisfied that the timing was right, the car was put into very slow motion and they ran the stunt another few times.

            Just as Steve was starting to relax and enjoy watching the process, he saw it; Christian stumbled a little coming out of the roll and staggered his way back onto his feet favoring his ankle.  Steve was halfway out of his seat when a hand fell on his shoulder and firmly pushed him back down.  “Hey!” he protested and looked up and back into the face of Timothy Hutton.  Tim wasn’t actually working but had stayed in town to attend their show at Dante’s later that night.

            “He won’t thank you,” the older man said quietly.

            “But he’s …” Steve started as they began another run.  This time it was almost at full speed and it went perfectly.  Christian turned to look at the two of them and gave them an ‘okay’ sign.

            Timothy smiled and returned the gesture as he pulled his own chair over to sit next to Steve.  “Here you go,” he offered Steve a cup of hot coffee.  “If we’re lucky it’ll be one take and everyone can finally go home.”

            Steve nodded and took a sip of the coffee, feeling the burn all the way down.  “And if we’re not lucky?” he mumbled under his breath, a bad feeling rolling through the pit of his stomach that he was positive wasn’t the coffee.

            “Okay, people,” the director’s voice rang out across the location, “we’re going hot on this one!  Everybody ready?”  Affirmative responses came from all over the set.  “Chris … we good to go?”

            Christian squared his shoulders and got into position.  “Let’s do this thing!” he echoed his earlier comment to Steve.

            The set went quiet and the call went up, “Places everyone and … Action!”

            With a powerful rev of its engine the car began its journey.  Christian counted down and started his run to position.  Just before Christian and the car arrived at the point of impact, one of the large crates that were being used as set props tumbled off of its stack and crashed to the floor to Christian’s left and shattered.  The impact and the sound startled Christian; he fell backwards to avoid any potential splinters and landed flat on his back.  The car swerved off and skidded to a stop.

            Crew members swarmed the area to check on Christian and the driver of the car.  Both men waved off the extra attention and huddled together alone for a few moments.  Whatever they said to each other was done in hushed tones with their heads close together but they finally waved over at the director and gave him a cocky thumbs up.

            Steve slumped back in his chair as the call to re-set the scene went out.  Taking another sip of coffee he tried to bring the trembling in his hands under control.

            “He does tend to do bad things to your blood pressure, doesn’t he?” Timothy chuckled softly.

            A chill streaked through Steve at Tim’s words and knowing tone.  He and Christian were only just starting to figure things out.  Had others come to the same conclusion as they had only before them?  And, if so, what had given them away?  None of their close friends in the entertainment industry would bat an eye if they knew about the developing relationship between them; it was Hollywood after all.  But they had been wary of broadcasting anything before they were ready themselves.  They also needed to make sure it wouldn’t reflect badly on them in the broader community of their chosen professions.  Steve took a deep breath and cleared his throat before saying, “He sure does.  I don’t know if I could watch him do this every day.”  Thank god his voice sounded normal, at least to his own ears.

            “He doesn’t – actually – do this every day,” Timothy smiled helpfully.  “You just got lucky today.”

            “You and I’ve got two different ideas on what ‘lucky’ is, man,” Steve snorted.

            “Places!” the director called again, “And … Action!”

            For Steve it was like he was watching everything in slow motion.  He had no idea if anyone else had noticed but Christian’s stride was off from the beginning; he wasn’t moving nearly as smoothly as he had on the last take.  Steve stood and sucked in a breath as Christian hit his mark and left his feet.  Unfortunately, the shortening of his paces meant that instead of rolling through the stunt he bounced.  His first impact was off of the hood of the car and his shoulder went through the windshield.  The rest of the crew looked on horror struck as Christian flew off of the rapidly braking car and into a stand of metal barrels that were definitely not part of the set, nor were they constructed for safety.  Christian hit them with a loud, clanging thump and slid to the floor, unmoving, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

            Complete stunned silence and inaction ruled the set in the wake of the accident until …

            “CHRIS!!!” Steve screamed and flew across the area like a bat out of hell with Timothy and the set EMTs hot on his heels.  He slid on his knees and came to a halt with his hands hovering over Christian not knowing if he should even attempt to touch him.  A small pool of blood seeped from Christian’s head and Steve let out a howl of anguish as his stomach heaved.

            Timothy reached over Steve’s shoulders and took the other man’s hands in his own.  “Let the medics in, Steve.  Let them do their jobs.”  He gently pulled the unresisting man away giving the EMTs a chance to get in and make an assessment.

            “An ambulance is on set and will be here in a moment,” the director informed the medics as they began to check over their patient.

            The female EMT found where the bleeding was coming from and grabbed a sterile dressing pack to press against the wound.  “Daniel, can you grab one of the neck braces.  I want to get his head stabilized in case there’s spinal damage.”

            “Coming right up, Sandy,” Daniel responded and handed her the requested item before settling in to take down vital signs.  After a few minutes he said, “His pulse and respiration are good but it feels like he might be running a fever.”

            “A … a cold,” Steve stammered quietly.

            “What?” Daniel asked.

            “Earlier, I thought he was coming down with a cold.  He was sneezing a lot.”

            Daniel nodded, “With the fever I’d lean more towards the flu.  Thanks for the information …?”

            “Uh, I’m Steve.”

            The ambulance rolled in and pulled up as close as it could get.  Sandy pulled the back open and reached in for a backboard.  The EMTs rolled Christian carefully onto the backboard while the ambulance driver and his partner grabbed a gurney and brought it around.  As Christian was gently placed on the stretcher and strapped into place, Daniel was on the radio passing along his vitals to the hospital that they’d be taking him to.  

            The stretcher was finally locked into place and they started to shut the doors, prepared to take off.  Timothy pushed Steve over to the door and said, “Would it be okay if he rode along?”

            “He family?” the driver asked.

            “He’s the closest thing to family that Christian has here,” Timothy said earnestly.

            The driver shook his head, “Sorry, immediate family members only.  It’s going to be cramped enough back there as it is.”  Steve looked positively stricken at the driver’s pronouncement.

            Timothy ground his teeth in exasperation, “Are you taking him to County?”

            “Yes, sir,” the driver responded and closed the doors.  Seconds later, the vehicle was on it’s way.

            “Steve?” Timothy put an arm around the shaken man’s shoulders.  Steve’s eyes didn’t leave the ambulance until it was out of his line of sight.  “Come on, Steve.  I’ll take you to the hospital.”  There was no response so Timothy took hold of Steve’s sleeve and just pulled him along towards his car.  He called out to one of the assistants, “Can you let Dean and John know what’s happened?  They should be in the offices.  I’m taking Steve to County to wait for word on Chris.”

            “Yes, sir,” the assistant responded immediately with his cell phone already in hand.

             

            Tim took a quick look at his silent passenger as he braked the car to a stop at the umpteenth traffic light they had hit between the studio and the hospital.  Steve had been frozen in the same position from the time Timothy carefully folded his lanky frame into the front seat and secured the seatbelt for him.  He wasn’t sure if the other man was praying, thinking, or shutting down and going into shock.  “You’re good for him, you know,” Tim said hoping to ease the tension.

            Steve blinked.  He slowly turned his head to look at Timothy and swallowed.  “What?” he asked, his haunted blue eyes widening a fraction.

            Tim sighed.  Over the course of working together on the show he and Christian had become very good friends.  Christian could be a moody bastard at times and Tim tried to find ways to reach out to him before he could let his formidable temper fly.  They started to play chess on and off the set and Christian gifted him with a portable set where the pieces locked in place so the games could continue and travel with them anywhere.  As time went on their conversations had gone deeper and Tim detected a subtle change in the way Christian spoke about Steve who was apparently becoming more than a band mate, writing partner, and long-time best friend.  Tim also noticed that when Steve came up for visits – or Christian traveled to see him over their weekends off – Christian was always much more mellow and relaxed.  Something Very Important was happening between them but the fact that they had not said anything to anyone led Tim to believe that they hadn’t quite taken that last step.  Tim needed to find a way to let Steve know that he had another friend he could lean on until Christian was out of the woods.  As they finally started moving again Tim repeated, “You’re good for him.  We can all tell when he’s gotten the chance to spend some time with you.”  Glancing once again to his right, Tim was encouraged to see Steve thinking about what he was saying.  “I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me if you want to or need to.”

            Steve nodded and drew in a deep, shaky breath, “Thanks, man.  I appreciate that … a lot.”  He rubbed a trembling hand across his face.

            “You okay?” Tim smiled.

            “I don’t know,” Steve responded honestly.

            “I’ll take that,” Tim chuckled.  “Listen, do you need to call anyone?  I know you guys have – uh – had a show tonight at Dante’s.”

            “Aw shit!” Steve fumbled his cell phone out of his jacket and promptly dropped it on the floorboards of the car.  “Damn it!” he snarled and started feeling all around his feet as tiny sobs of fear and frustration tore from his throat.

            Tim swore under his breath and eased the car out of traffic as soon as he could.  Throwing it in park, he reached over and pulled Steve into a fierce hug.  “Shhhh!  I’ve got you … I’ve got you …”

            Steve’s grip on Tim’s biceps was punishing but the older man rode it out as he continued to comfort his charge.  It didn’t take long before the storm passed and Steve was sitting back up wiping at his tear ravaged face.  “Better?” Tim asked with a wry smile.

            An embarrassed flush stole across Steve’s face.  “Um, yeah.  Thanks, man.”  Reaching down between his feet he finally recovered his errant cell phone and hit speed dial 3 as Tim eased them back into the flow of traffic.  He closed his eyes as the connection was made, “Um – hi, Eric … It’s Steve.  I’ve got some bad news …..”

            >^..^<

            Steve checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time.  Upon their arrival over an hour ago, he and Timothy had been informed that Christian had been rushed immediately for x-rays, a CAT scan, and an MRI before they were escorted to a private waiting room away from the prying eyes of the general public.

            Dean Devlin and Eric Griffin stayed in constant contact with either Steve or Tim to get updates.  Eric passed the news of Christian’s accident to the other band members and took care of canceling the band’s gigs for the foreseeable future.  Dean smoothed the way at the hospital, ensuring that all necessary paperwork was taken care of along with setting Christian up in a private room for the duration of his stay.

            A tired looking man wearing surgical scrubs sauntered into the room.  “You guys here for Christian Kane?”

            Timothy and Steve stood slowly with Tim easing a helping hand under the blonde’s elbow when his knees threatened to give out.  “And you are?” Tim asked in return.

            “Doctor Cameron.  I’ll be taking care of your friend while he’s here.”  He walked over and shook both their hands.

            Steve cleared his throat, “So … how is he?”

            “He’s going to be fine,” Doctor Cameron smiled reassuringly.  “It’ll take a bit of time for things to heal up properly – and he does have a mild case of the flu on top of everything else.  The worst of the damage is on his right side:  Slight sprained ankle, bruised ribs and some muscle damage to his shoulder.”

            “Probably from the impact with the windshield,” Tim speculated.

            Cameron raised an eyebrow, “Should I even ask?”

            “Stunt gone wrong,” Tim responded succinctly.

            The doctor shook his head and continued, “As I was saying, he’s pretty much bruised all over and has a concussion.  We’re going to want to keep him here at least overnight to monitor the head injury and begin an aggressive course of antibiotics to fight his flu.  You should be able to take him home some time tomorrow or the next day as long as he takes it easy and someone is around who can stay with him.”

            “I can do that,” Steve volunteered immediately.  The guardedly good news had done wonders to restore his emotional equilibrium.

            “Good to hear that, Mr. …?”

            “Carlson.  Steve Carlson.”

            “Steve,” Doctor Cameron smiled.  “And Mr. Hutton, I am a big fan.”

            “Timothy or Tim, please,” he offered.

            “Well, Christian should be in his room by now.  I can take you there if you’d like.”

            “Sure!” Steve responded, eager to see his friend again and confirm with his own eyes that he was going to be okay.

             

            Christian was lying on his back, raised up slightly by the adjustable bed.  His right shoulder was mottled and already starting to show signs of heavy bruising.  It was easy to see that once the black and blue marks came out they would be spectacular and very painful.  “When he’s resting at home, you’ll want to keep him propped up with pillows or something until the inflammation goes down around his ribs,” Doctor Cameron explained in a voice just louder than a whisper.

            “What else?” Steve asked just as quietly as he approached the bed for a closer look.

            Cameron eased the bedding down to Christian’s waist.  There were bandages wrapped around his ribcage and the doctor took Steve’s hand to show him how tightly they were wound.  “When he takes a bath – no showers until the swelling goes down on that ankle – you’ll need to put this gear back on him.  Try to keep the tension at about this level.  It’s snug but will prevent him from doing any more damage to the tissue surrounding the ribs.  I’ll also leave a sling for him to wear when his shoulder becomes too painful.  He’s not going to want to move it around in any case since that will aggravate his ribs as well.  The ankle is a minor sprain.  Ice it and keep it elevated as much as possible.  Let him walk around on it.  He’ll know when he’s had enough.  If he has any trouble breathing, any sharp pains, get him back here immediately.  The x-rays didn’t show any cracks or breaks but sometimes hairline fractures are so small they might not show up and you don’t want to risk a punctured lung.”

            Steve’s head was spinning but he carefully filed everything away mentally for later.  He was calculating the degree of bruising he could see and ouched silently for his friend.  “Is there anything I should pick up for him?  Advil?  Motrin?”

            “Oops!  Almost forgot!” Cameron grinned sheepishly.  “I was going to leave his prescriptions at the desk for when you sign him out but I might as well give them to you so you can get them filled right away.  I’ll also give you my beeper number in case you have any questions or need to bring him back in.  Anything else?”

            “The head injury,” Tim spoke up.  “Are there going to be any – uh – lingering issues we should look out for?  … Headaches … Memory loss? …”

            “We won’t know for sure until he wakes up and we can evaluate his responses and pain levels.  If there is memory loss, let him try to muddle through and remember on his own.  It will undoubtedly be frustrating for him and for you but it’s the only way we’ll be able to figure out the full extent, if any, of the damage.”  Steve visibly paled at the thought of Christian having to go through any of that.  Cameron noticed and touched him lightly on the arm, “Steve, are you all right?  Need to sit down?”

            “It’s all a bit much to take in, you know?” Steve shook his head.  “But I’m okay … I think.”

            “Hey, buddy,” Tim slung an arm across Steve’s shoulder, “you know you can call on any of us to help you out if you need it, right?”  Steve smiled gratefully and nodded.

            “And that beeper number will reach me 24/7,” Cameron added holding a few pieces of paper out.

            Steve nodded taking the prescriptions and the doctor’s card, shoving them into his wallet.  “I guess all we can do now is wait for him to decide to wake up? … “

            >^..^<>^..^<>^..^<>^..^< 

            Carly was true to her word and checked in with Steve every so often to see if he needed anything.  He even managed a chicken sandwich and a cup of fairly decent coffee under her watchful eye.  She had a more comfortable chair brought in for him to use that semi-reclined and provided him with a blanket and pillow to help him try to get some sleep while he waited.  

            Surprisingly enough, with a full belly and the warmth of the blanket, Steve finally drifted off but he started awake suddenly and blinked as he looked around the room trying to figure out what had woken him.  A low moan from the bed had him bolting upright out of his chair and leaning over Christian’s twitching body.  “C – Chris?” he asked hesitantly.

            Two hazy blue eyes blinked open and slid shut again.  Christian shifted position slightly and moaned again.  Only one eye opened this time, unfocused and clearly showing pain.  “Are you gonna stare at my corpse all damn day?” he rasped and regretted it immediately as his dry throat seized and sent him into a coughing fit.  He curled himself in around his aching ribs, “Aw fuck!” he whimpered and went absolutely still.

            Steve reached for the pitcher of water on the stand next to the bed and poured out a half cup full.  He gently supported Christian’s head – avoiding the bandage covering the stitches he’d needed – so he could take a few sips without moving around too much.  “Better?” he asked lowering Christian back to the pillows.

            “Yeah.  Thanks, man,” Christian whispered.

            “I hate to tell you this, Chris, but you look like shit,” Steve said taking in skin so pale it was almost translucent in the harsh hospital lighting and the bruises which were standing out in stark contrast.

            “Tell me something I don’t know, Carlson,” came the snarled response.  “When can I get the fuck out of here?”

            “Not for at least another day depending on how the doc says you’re doing.  He’s gonna want to run a few tests.  Figure out just how much damage you did now that you’re awake to answer some questions.  And then there’s the fact that you picked up that flu bug that’s been going around so they have you plugged into some powerful antibiotics to help you kick it’s ass.”  Steve found the call button and reached over to press it to let someone know that Christian was awake.

            “Huh,” Christian grunted.  “So when’re y’all gonna tell me what the hell happened?”

            “Now, now, Mr. Kane,” Doctor Cameron swept into the room.  “I asked Steve to let you try to remember on your own.  How else are we going to know what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

            Even in pain, Christian managed one of his blue death ray glares at the newcomer.  “How the fuck am I supposed to know if I’ve forgotten something if I don’t know what the hell it is I’m supposed to remember that I’ve forgotten?” he growled.

            Cameron suppressed the smirk he could feel fighting to escape his lips.  He had a feeling that his patient would not appreciate humor at the moment.  Steve stepped in to defuse the brewing explosion, “C’mon, Chris, be nice to the doc or he just might stick a few things where you’d rather not have them stuck.”  He waggled his eyebrows with a smirk.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Christian grumbled but nodded to the doctor, “Sorry, man.  I just … I don’t do hospitals very well.”  Steve snorted and received a scowl of his own.  “Watch it, Carlson.”  He turned his attention back to Cameron, “So what’s the bad news?”

            As Doctor Cameron ran down the list of injuries one more time, Steve unconsciously let his hand drift down Christian’s uninjured left arm, being careful not to dislodge any of the IV lines.  He stopped and tangled his fingers with Christian’s giving a gentle squeeze only to step back in shock when his own hand was dropped as if Christian had been burned.  Steve looked down to see a ‘what the fuck’ snarl aimed in his direction and suddenly the walls of the room closed in on him.  He choked and stumbled towards the door.

            “Steve?” Doctor Cameron asked in concern; he’d missed the entire silent exchange between the two men.

            “Need air,” Steve gasped, pushing through the door and running down the hallway to the nearest men’s room.

            Steve was so intent on getting into the bathroom he didn’t see John Rogers and Eric Griffin heading towards Christian’s room.  The two men looked at each other and split up with John hustling in Christian’s direction and Eric swerving into the men’s room after Steve.

            After seeing the expression on Steve’s face, John wasn’t sure what to expect when he entered Christian’s room.  Relief washed over him at the sight of his moody actor answering questions and submitting quietly – if a little grumpily – to the doctor poking and prodding at him.

            “Hey, John,” Christian offered in a tired sounding voice.  He canted his head to one side like he was expecting to see someone standing behind John and a look of disappointment flashed across his face.

            “Christian,” John responded warmly and shook hands with the doctor.  “Hi ya, doc, I’m John Rogers.  Christian works for us on _Leverage_.”

            “Hello, John, I’m Doctor Cameron.”  The doctor made sure his patient was lying back comfortably on the bed and steered John towards the door so they could speak quietly and allow Christian to drift off to sleep if he was ready.  “He’s going to be okay, John.  It’s just gonna take some time for everything to stop barking at him.  I have to ask you, did you see Steve Carlson on your way in here?”

            “Yeah.  He looked pretty shook up.  I didn’t know what I was going to find when I walked in here.”

            “Damn!  I was afraid of that.  I was telling them how to deal with Christian’s injuries after his release and the next thing I know he was bolting for the door claiming to need air.  I have no idea what happened.  I should have gone after him; made sure he was all right.”

            John looked over to the bed.  Christian had indeed succumbed to sleep again.  His legs moved a little restlessly under the blankets and his face was lined in pain.  “I came in with Eric Griffin.  He’s their band manager.  He went after Steve when I came in here.  Hopefully he’ll be able to get something out of Steve.  In the meantime, what can you tell me about Chris?”

            Cameron rubbed his hand across his tired eyes and prepared to go over the list again; he briefly wondered if he should just go ahead and record it in case anyone else was going to want to hear it.

             

            Eric eased the restroom door open slowly, not wanting to startle Steve if he was just on the other side.  He needn’t have worried, though, as he could hear the sounds of retching coming from behind a closed stall door.  “Jesus,” he whispered and closed the door making sure to lock it so no one else could wander in on them.  Grabbing a handful paper towels he ran them under cold water and then perched himself on the counter.

            He didn’t have long to wait before the sound of the toilet flushing was followed by Steve’s unsteady emergence from the cubicle.  “Hey, Steve,” Eric said quietly, not wanting to spook the blond.

            “Eric,” Steve responded dully and slid down the nearest wall until he was sitting on the floor.

            Grabbing and wetting more paper towels, Eric knelt next to his guitarist and pressed one handful to the back of his neck and used the other to wipe down his face.  “How ya doing, buddy?”

            “Just peachy, Eric,” Steve responded with an uncharacteristic biting sarcasm.  Almost immediately he squeezed his eyes shut and smacked his head back into the wall.  “Sorry, dude.  You didn’t deserve that,” he apologized.

            Eric waved him off.  “Talk to me, man.  What’s wrong?  Is it Chris?”

            Steve shook his head.  “Doc says Chris is gonna be fine … in time.  He just … he’s forgotten some … stuff.  I thought maybe the accident … I wasn’t expecting … Fuck! … Fuck! … Fuck!”  He punched his own thigh.

            “Steve … Steve … tell me what you need,” Eric tried to calm his friend down.  “What can I do to help?”

            Tilting his head back against the wall, Steve was unaware of the solitary tear that streaked down his cheek.  Taking a deep breath he said, “I need to get back to the house.  I have to do some stuff before the doc releases him.  Get the house ready.  Make sure we have food in ‘cause I’m not going to want to go out again until he’s feeling better.”  Steve stood on shaky legs and started for the door.

            “You need a ride or some help?”

            “It all depends on whether Tim is back yet.  He went to the set to grab our stuff from the trailer.  I don’t know how long he’s been gone.  He said he’d drive me if I wanted since Chris drove us to the set this morning.”

            Eric reached the door first and unlocked it.  “Let’s go see if we can find him.  If not, I can take you …” he paused at the brief look of panic that crossed Steve’s face, “… or we can get you a cab if you’re determined to do this on your own.”  Eric opened the door and ushered Steve through first.

            Doctor Cameron was just exiting Christian’s room and he zeroed in on Steve like a heat seeking missile.  “Steve?” he asked noting the pale complexion and less than steady walk, “You okay, man?”

            Steve looked from the doctor to Christian’s room, “He okay?” he pointedly ignored the question directed at himself.

            “He’s fine,” Cameron responded.  “I’m a little worried about you.”

            Eric waved him off.  “Has Tim Hutton gone back to Christian’s room yet?” he asked.

            “No.  I would be right here,” Tim’s voice came from behind them.  “Just got back with Christian and Steve’s stuff from the trailer.  It’s in my car.”

            Eric reached out to Steve, “You ready to go?  Or did you want to see Chris before you left?”

            “Christian’s asleep,” Cameron supplied.  “John is keeping him company.”

            “Can I see him?” Steve sounded like a little kid asking about a favorite toy.

            When Doctor Cameron nodded, Eric wrapped his hand around Steve’s arm.  “Why don’t you go with the doc and tell John that I’ll stay with Christian tonight in case he needs anything.  Okay?”

            Steve nodded and followed the doctor back down the hall.

            Eric motioned Timothy a little further away from the room and said, “Steve flipped out a little earlier.  Something happened in Christian’s room that he hasn’t told anyone about yet.  Keep an eye on him, would you?  You know how to get in touch with me.”

            “I think I might be able to get him to talk once we’re  away from here.  I’ll stay with him at the house tonight and bring him back tomorrow.”  Tim reached out to lay a hand on Eric’s shoulder, “We’ll get them both through this.”

            “Thanks, Tim,” Eric responded.  “Call me,” he said meaningfully and headed to Christian’s room just as Doctor Cameron returned with Steve.

            “Will do,” Tim said and took over to guide Steve to the parked car.

            >^..^<  

            The house Christian used while they were filming was a four-bedroom single story ranch style house in Portland’s waterfront district.  Close enough to both the city and the studio but still outside the every day hustle and bustle.  The back of the house was right on the river with a large wooden deck complete with a hot tub and bricked in area for outdoor barbecues.  One of the bedrooms had been converted into a mini recording studio, which allowed Chris – and any other band members who happened to be there – a place where they could work on new music when they were in town.  It wasn’t unusual for any of them to stay with Christian rather than book into anonymous hotel rooms for the duration of their stay.

            Tim pulled smoothly into the driveway, parking next to Steve’s rental car.  The drive had been quiet but comfortable and Steve was pretty much a slumped puddle in the passenger seat.  The lack of motion roused him from his semi-stupor and he fumbled the house keys out of his pocket as he pushed the car door open.  On the way in, he pulled the day’s mail out of the box and dumped it in the basket that had been set up on the entryway table just for that purpose.  He’d go through it later and weed out the junk but for now he had a purpose and somewhat of a limited time to do it.

            “Come on in and make yourself at home, Tim,” Steve invited his houseguest as he removed his jacket and offered to hang Tim’s up for him.

            “So, Steve … why don’t you tell me what needs to be done and let’s get started,” Timothy wanted to get to the bottom of what had rattled his host so badly at the hospital but didn’t want to push him too quickly.

            “Um … why don’t you head into the kitchen and see what we have in there.  I have a feeling we’ll need to make a grocery run to stock up on just about everything.  I’m gonna head back to the bedroom.  I need to do some clean up in there and pack a bag for when Chris comes home.”  Steve headed down the hall towards the back of the house.

            Timothy raised his eyebrow at the singular use of the word bedroom.  Maybe things had progressed farther than he originally thought.  But it was encouraging that Steve didn’t think twice about revealing yet another little glimpse into the personal lives of the two men.  He glanced towards the kitchen, shrugged, and headed down the hall in Steve’s wake.

            The door to the bedroom was half closed and Timothy could hear the sound of hitched breathing coming from the other side.  Pushing gently he swung the door open and found Steve on his knees next to the bed trying hard to keep himself from being overheard.  Something alerted the distraught man and he looked up, wide-eyed, and tried to pull himself together.  “Hey … stop it.  It’s me, Steve, no need to cover up.  Okay?”

            Steve nodded and wiped his eyes.  “This – uh – despite how this looks, it’s not what you think it is.”

            Leaning just inside the doorway, Tim said, “Then why don’t you tell me what it is.”

            “I won’t lie to you,” Steve shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor.  “We were headed in that direction.  We almost jumped the gun today in the trailer,” he rasped and his voice broke.  He cleared his throat and continued, “We’re pretty sure no one is gonna give a crap over this but we want to be certain we each know what we’re getting into and that we’re both comfortable with how we’re going to – if we’re gonna present ChrisAndSteve to people.  Regardless of the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude he shows the world, it’s taken Chris a while to get comfortable with everything involved because of his background.  His family’s terrific; don’t get me wrong.  His mom, dad, sister … they’ve already welcomed me into the family with open arms.  The extended families might not understand and family is so important to both of us.

            “We were supposed to take a couple days off once filming ended – before we hit the road for the radio tour – and work things out.  Just us.  When I got here a couple of days ago, Chris hadn’t even had the spare room made up for me.  He just carried my bags in here and told me in no uncertain terms that we were gonna be sharing the bed.  No sex.  Not until after we talked.  So we’ve been sleeping together since I got here.  It’s been really nice to wake up with him wrapped around me, you know?  But then the filming kept getting pushed back and pushed back and ‘the talk’ got put off again and again.  He wanted to make sure he was rested and relaxed so he could focus completely on the conversation so that there would be no questions about what we each wanted.  We’ve been friends for so long we didn’t want to screw that up by jumping in the sack and going at it like minks in heat.  There’s too much at stake for that.”

            “I get that.  And it’s a sound plan, a good idea.  Are you ready to tell me what happened in the hospital that got you so shook up?”

            Steve swallowed hard and tears threatened once again.  “Damn it!” he swore and wiped his eyes.  “Sorry; I’m not usually this ‘girly’.”  Tim waved off the apology and motioned for Steve to continue.  Steve nodded and said, “When the doc was talking to Chris, I unconsciously reached down to take his hand in mine.  Nothing overt but Chris practically threw my hand away from him and the look he gave me … Jesus!  It was one of those ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ glares he’s so good at.”

            “Oh boy,” Tim sighed; he knew that look all too well.

            “More than that,” Steve continued, “I could see it in his eyes … he had no idea why I’d done what I did.  He’s forgotten about us!”  Steve stood abruptly and started pulling open dresser drawers to empty out half of their contents.  “I have to get my stuff out of this room before the doc sends him home.”

            “So you’re gonna what?” Tim asked.  “Pretend that the two of you aren’t anything more than friends?”

            “I won’t push him to remember!” Steve shouted.  “I won’t,” he repeated quietly, brokenly.

            “No matter that it’s going to kill you inside?” Tim said softly.

            “If it’s meant to be he’ll remember,” Steve whispered and took an armful of his clothes in to the room next door never seeing the look of pain that crossed Timothy’s face at the thought of what was at risk here.

             

            Once the bedroom had been put to rights, including fresh sheets and extra pillows on the bed, Steve and Timothy tackled the kitchen.  Steve went through the pantry, freezer, and refrigerator calling out what they’d need to pick up at the store while Tim scribbled down the items and added a few of his own for himself and Steve for later that night.

            “Hey, Steve,” Tim interjected when it looked like the other man was done with his list, “is there somewhere we can get Christian’s prescriptions filled while we’re out?”

            “Um … yeah,” Steve scanned the notes posted on the refrigerator door and pulled one off.  “Chris usually goes through the pharmacy inside the grocery store.  There’s an ATM as well.  I’m gonna need cash for all this stuff.”

            Tim took the paper with the phone number of the pharmacy.  “I’ll call these in so they should be ready by the time we get there.”

            “Cool!  Thanks, man!  I’ll make sure the other guest room is ready for you and start putting some stuff together for Christian.”  With that, the human whirlwind known as Steve bustled out of the kitchen and back down the hall.

            =^..^= 

            Eric looked up from the puzzle book he was working on as his charge shifted in the bed yet again and groaned when his injuries protested the movement.  After his last violent coughing fit had left Christian breathless to the point his lips were blue, Dr. Cameron had put him on a mist therapy treatment to help ease his lungs and upped his pain meds to knock him out.  He was also provided with a body pillow to use as a cushion for his ribs.  The coughing spasms had finally eased and Christian was wrapped around the pillow like it was an overlarge teddy bear but the damage had been done and his body was none to happy with the aftermath.

            “St – St – Steve?” the word was the barest whisper but Eric heard it and saw two bleary blue eyes gazing back at him.

            “Easy does it, tough guy,” Eric moved closer to the bed.  “You want some water?”  Christian licked his dry lips and nodded slightly; even that small motion produced a whimper of pain.  Eric filled a plastic cup and stuck a straw in it before raising the shaggy head off of the pillow.  “Take it slow.  Don’t want you tossing it back at me.”

            Chris only took a couple of sips before he spat the straw back out and eased his head down.  “Thanks, man.”  There was a brief pause before the question was asked again, “Steve? … Here?”

            “Tim took him to the house a couple hours ago.”

            A flash of disappointment crossed the stubbled face but was quickly replaced by concern, “He okay?”

            “He’s tired … A little freaked out.  Tim’s gonna stay with him tonight and bring him back tomorrow.”

            “Tim’s … good guy,” Chris slurred and his eyes drooped closed again.

            “That he is,” Eric agreed as Christian slipped back into an uneasy sleep.  

            =^..^=

            Tim had no idea how Steve had gotten the reputation of being this laid back, easy going, mellow guy after watching him in action all afternoon.  After packing a duffle for Christian, he hustled them out the door to the grocery store.  Picking up the cash he needed, Christian’s prescriptions, and the actual food shopping were handled with a precision and sense of urgency that would have made a drill sergeant weep with pride.  All Tim could do was stand back and let him go for fear of being run over in the process.

            Once they arrived back home, everything was put away and Steve settled in to cook dinner for the two of them.  Both Steve and Christian enjoyed cooking, especially when they were doing it for other people, and the cast and crew of _Leverage_ had benefited from their culinary expertise on more than one occasion.

            Tonight Steve kept it relatively simple with spaghetti but he did make his own meat sauce rather than relying on anything from a jar or a can.  They had picked up a fresh loaf of French bread and the makings for a salad to round out the meal.  After Tim had helped stow the groceries and other supplies, he retired to the entertainment room to do some channel surfing and leave Steve to his creation.

             

            Tim was exhausted just trying to keep a watchful eye on Steve.  Once dinner was over Steve had pushed him back into the entertainment room and tackled the clean up on his own.  He figured that as soon as the other man actually stopped moving it wouldn’t take long before he would collapse and be down for the count and he had no qualms about helping that process along.  While Steve had picked up Christian’s prescriptions, Tim had ambled over to the liquor section of the store and invested in a bottle of fine whiskey that he was prepared to put to good use in helping to relax his charge.

            Steve appeared in the doorway with a damp dishtowel draped over his shoulder.  “I’m just about done in here.  Can I get you anything else?”

            “Nope,” Tim responded.  “Why don’t you finish up and come chill out for a little while.”

            “Yeah.  Sounds good,” Steve nodded and disappeared again.

            By the time he returned, Tim had the whiskey out and the drinks poured.  He had also teed up a movie in the DVD player.  “Here you go,” he said and offered one of the glasses to Steve.  “I figured you could use this after today.”

            Steve took a sip as he collapsed into one of the recliners and savored the burn all the way down.  “Oh, yeah.  That works,” he sighed and kicked his shoes off to wiggle his socked toes.

            Tim cleared his throat, “Listen.  I called the hospital.  Christian is doing fine.  Eric said he’s finished the first round of antibiotics and started on the second.  He’s also out for the night and sleeping as comfortably as he can.  Dr. Cameron is guardedly optimistic that you’ll be able to bring him home tomorrow if you’re sure you’re ready.”

            “I – uh …” Steve bit his lip and twirled the glass between his fingers.  “I guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be.  I’ll do one more check on his room tomorrow and make sure I’ve got everything packed he’s gonna need before we head over there.”

            “That’s not what I meant.”

            “I know exactly what you meant, man.  I told you before, I’m not gonna push him.  He’ll either remember on his own or we go from here and see what happens in the future.”  Steve finished his drink in one swallow and reached for the bottle.  “You mind?”

            “I got it for us for tonight.  Be my guest,” Tim nodded.  “I also got pistachio ice cream for later, too, if you’re interested.”

            Steve chuckled, “How much later?” he bounced his eyebrows good-naturedly.

            “How about after we watch James Bond kick a little ass?”

            “Cool!  Which one?”

            “The new _Casino Royale_ with Daniel Craig sound good?”

            “Yeah!  I liked that one.  He knocked it out of the park first time out.  I’ve been wanting to see it again.”

            “All right,” Tim smiled and pressed play.

             

            Steve never made it to the pistachio ice cream.  Somewhere between his fourth and fifth whiskey, his head tipped to one side and quiet snores issued from his throat.

            “Finally,” Tim smiled and rescued the nearly empty glass from the long, lax fingers resting on the arm of the recliner.

            Tim allowed the movie to play out making sure that Steve was indeed done for the night.  Once he had put the DVD away, shut down the entertainment center, and cleaned up the bottle and the glasses, he retrieved a pillow and blankets from Steve’s bed and made the younger man as comfortable as he could in the recliner.  There would be no sense in waking him up just to have him move to a bed and there was guarantee that he’d even go back to sleep if he woke up.

            Knowing that the next day could wind up as stressful as the one they’d just gone through, Tim finished tidying up and headed to bed himself.

            >^..^<>^..^<>^..^<>^..^<

            The next morning started out almost as hectic as the previous afternoon had been.  Tsunami Steve was up, showered, and prepping for breakfast before Tim even cracked his eyes open.  The fresh smell of really good coffee tickled his nostrils and teased him gently awake and he stumbled out to the kitchen.

            “You’re up!” Steve chirped and held out a large mug.

            “If you say so,” Tim mumbled and practically inhaled half of the coffee in one go.  “Ooooh … this is fantastic!” he commended.

            “You like it?” Steve grinned.  “It’s a special blend.  A friend of mine in Maui keeps me supplied.  It’s one of Christian’s favorites.

            “I can see why,” Tim ambled over and topped off his cup.  “You look better this morning,” he observed.  “How long have you been up?”

            Steve glanced at the clock, “Only about an hour or so … Hey! Thanks for not waking me up after I passed out last night.  I slept all the way through.”

            “That’s what I was hoping,” Tim nodded.

            “You like omelettes?” Steve asked as he held up a carton of eggs.

            “Um … sure,” Tim responded.

            “Omelettes it is!” Steve started pulling out what he’d need and settled in to the very familiar motions of whipping up another tasty meal.

             

            The house was quiet when Tim opened the door to his guest room after he showered and changed clothes.  He grabbed the overnight bag that he’d brought with him from the set the day before and started down the hall.  Catching sight of Steve sitting on the side of the bed in his own guest bedroom, Tim turned in to see if he needed any help.

            “Hey, Tim,” Steve piped up cheerfully despite the evidence of unshed moisture in his tired blue eyes.

            “Steve … what’s up?” Timothy asked casually.

            “It’s a good thing I made one final sweep through Christian’s room.  Can you imagine if he’d found this?” the blond held out a 5 x 7 framed photo.

            Timothy took the picture and couldn’t help the low whistle that escaped when he saw the shot.  He remembered the day it was taken very well.  Steve had been on set visiting and he and Christian started mock battling in a parody of a complicated fight sequence that Christian and the other stunt performers had nailed on the first take.  While everyone else was practically rolling on the floor laughing at their antics, Beth was busy with her ever present camera capturing the moments of hilarity for posterity.

            The photo Tim was holding had been snapped just as Christian was helping Steve back to his feet after their impromptu wrestling match.  Their arms were wrapped around each other’s waists as they propped each other up and gasped with laughter.  Their eyes were locked and the looks of deep affection shone brightly from both of them.  Tim sighed and handed the picture back.  “You ready to go get him and bring him home?”

            “Just one second,” Steve grabbed a duffle bag off of the floor and checked the contents one last time.  “I packed the softest, loosest clothes I could find.  I didn’t figure he’d be wanting anything too snug that might put pressure on those scrapes and bruises.”  He pawed down to the bottom.  “Heavy socks, rubber soled moccasins, fingerless gloves and a wool cap.  I already put a blanket and pillows in the back of your car so he can get comfy on the drive back.”

            “All right, then,” Timothy rubbed his hands together.  “Let’s go rescue us a Kane.”

            Steve burst out laughing as he followed the older man out to the car.

             

            Christian couldn’t remember a time that he had hurt worse in so many places all at the same time.  Even his hair hurt thanks to the stitches he’d discovered when he turned his head the wrong way on the pillow.  At least the antibiotics seemed to have done their job as he felt a lot better than he had yesterday and the cough and sniffles were all but gone.

            Doctor Cameron had already been by.  He’d cleared Christian to go home and explained that Steve would be keeping an eye on him as well as dispensing the remainder of his antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and muscle-relaxer/painkillers for the duration.  The doctor also gave him another round of his meds to keep him going until he got home and then dragged Eric with him to go over the release paperwork and obtain all of the needed signatures and contact phone numbers.

            Christian found himself alone in his hospital room for the first time since regaining consciousness and he was bored out of his mind.  He never realized how god-awful daytime television was and was grateful that once he got home he’d have his own stuff around to keep himself entertained.  And Steve would be there as well.  He was hoping he could get to the bottom of his friend’s odd behavior.  He hadn’t seen Steve since he had bolted from the room yesterday looking like someone had shot his puppy.

            No sooner had the thought crossed Christian’s mind to wrap himself in a blanket and go in search of some clothes so he could get out of Dodge, when his door swung open to admit Timothy and Steve, the latter carrying Christian’s old, battered travel duffle bag.

            “A little birdie told me that someone is anxious to get out of here,” Timothy said with a smile.

            “Don’t know where ya heard that,” Christian chuckled.  “Hey, Steve, that for me?”

            “Yup, it sure is!  I packed the most comfortable stuff I could find for you to wear.  Hope it’s okay?” he placed the bag on the bed.

            Christian pulled the contents out and held them up one by one.  “This is awesome, man.  Thanks a lot.”  He slowly pushed the blankets down to his waist and eyed the clothes as if they were opponents he needed to face down in a fight.

            “Dude, are you sure you’re up to this?” Steve asked in concern.

            “Sooner I’m out of here and back home, the better I’ll be, believe me,” Christian grumbled.

            “If you say so,” Timothy muttered under his breath.

            Watching Christian inch over to the edge of the bed was an excruciating process and Steve wondered whether he was making the right decision.  He wasn’t about to argue, though, and moved to offer assistance.  Christian shrugged him off forcefully at first but at the twinge of pain that shot through his shoulder he said, “Sorry I’m in a pissy mood, guys.  I couldn’t get comfortable last night and I’m hurting like hell.”

            “We understand.  Would you like some help?” Steve asked in sympathy.

            “Yeah, man.  Thanks.”

            Steve pushed away the rest of the blankets with all the gentleness he could but even the soft brush of cloth over the worst bruises had Christian flinching away.  Making sure to keep his touches and actions as impersonal as possible he eased a soft t-shirt on first and added a heavier sweatshirt.  Once the sweatshirt was on he stopped to let Christian get his breath back.  The injured man had moaned only once when Steve had had to raise his right arm into the sleeves but his face had gone gray and was filmed with sweat.  “That was the hard part, Chris.  It’s all down hill from here.”

            Christian nodded and said, “Let’s get it over with..”

            Steve picked up the warm cotton sleep pants and eased them on each leg up to the knees.  He knew that Christian would not be able to pull on his own socks or the moccasins and performed that service as well, leaving the left one loose to accommodate the bandaging on his ankle.  “You’re gonna have to stand up for the home stretch.”

            “Was afraid you were gonna say that.”  Christian took a deep breath, leaning on Steve until he was able to balance on his own, and Steve quickly pulled the pants the rest of the way up.

            Just as Steve was settling a pale and wobbly Christian carefully back on the bed, the door opened to admit Carly.  “I see you’re dressed and ready to go,” she said with a smile.  “I’ll be back in a tick,” she winked and disappeared for a few moments.  Carly returned pushing a wheelchair, “Even if the hospital allowed it, you couldn’t make it to the car on your own so your chariot awaits.  And you get to keep your body pillow as well.”

            “Thanks, darlin’,” Christian rasped and limped two steps to the chair, settling in with a sigh of relief.  He smiled gratefully as Steve took a brief moment to slide the fingerless gloves on his hands and gently place the warm wool hat over his head carefully avoiding the stitches.  When Carly put the pillow in his lap he tucked it around his midsection, closed his eyes, and relaxed as much as his sore body would allow with Carly pushing the chair and Tim and Steve flanking him on either side.

             

            “Come on, Chris, rise and shine,” Steve urged as he tried to squeeze as much of his body into the footwell of the back seat of the car as he could to wake Christian up and get him in the house.

            Christian had passed out almost immediately while Steve was still building a comfortable nest around him in the roomy back seat of Tim’s car and he was none to happy about rejoining the world again.  “Drop dead, Carlson,” he mumbled and pushed his hair out of his face.

            “You slept all the way here,” Tim pointed out.  “Don’t you feel any better?”

            “I think I’d have to be dead to feel better, man,” Christian grumbled.

            “My.  We’re cranky, aren’t we?” Steve tried to lighten the mood.  Christian raised a single finger in an eloquent, yet silent, response but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a semi-smile.  “C’mon, dude, let’s get you inside and settled.  Let me put your sling on and we’ll take it slowly.”  Tim had Steve’s house keys in one hand and picked up the body pillow and mostly empty duffle bag before heading to the house to get the door open while Steve helped Christian out of the car and supported him on the long walk through the house to Christian’s bedroom.

            Christian sank gratefully onto his bed and curled around the body pillow, burying his face in it to muffle the loud groan that escaped his ashen lips.  He was shaking like a leaf from head to toe.  Steve reached out to brush a comforting hand through his hair but aborted the movement halfway there and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from doing it again.  “Chris,” he said softly, “all you have to do is say the word and we’ll take you back to the hospital.  That way the doctors will be right there if you keep on feeling this lousy.  I’m not sure they should have released you so soon anyway.”

            Christian only shifted enough to move the pillow away from his mouth, “Steve, the hospital is part of the reason I’m so fried.  Between the nurses comin’ in to check on me every hour or so to make sure I hadn’t died or forgotten who the current president of the fuckin’ country was and the pain every time I tried to move a different part of my body to try to get comfortable, I’d be surprised if I managed a total of an hour’s sleep.  Don’t get me started on the food.  I’d much rather be here with you takin’ care of me, okay?”

            A funny look passed across Christian’s face and Steve watched as he paled even further.  “Chris?  You okay, dude?”

            “I … uh,” Christian swallowed rapidly, “I don’t feel so good.  I think I’m gonna …..”

            That was Tim’s cue to move and move quickly.  He scooped the wastebasket up from next to the dresser and got it to Christian just as the ill man leaned over the side of the bed and heaved.  Steve dashed into the master bathroom and grabbed two hand towels soaking both of them under cool water and bringing them out to wait for Christian to be done.

            Christian pushed the hair away from his face and sat up.  Steve mirrored what Eric had done for him the previous day as he wiped Christian’s face down with one of the cold towels and applied the second one to the nape of his neck.  “Ungh,” Christian sighed.  “Thanks, man.”

            “That does it.  You’re going back to the hospital.”

            “No.  I’m not,” Christian argued.  “I told you I got zero sleep last night.  I couldn’t eat the rotten food they had in there and now I’m stressed out, in pain, and doped to the eyeballs.  Is it any wonder I fuckin’ puked?  If you … if you make me go back, it’s only gonna get worse.”  Steve’s head dropped forward in defeat and Timothy quietly backed out of the room carrying the wastebasket .  Tim was fairly certain that neither of the men would appreciate an audience if their ‘discussion’ escalated into a real argument.

            Timothy had barely finished rinsing out the trashcan when Steve ambled into the kitchen.  “He won, didn’t he?” he smirked.

            “Yeah,” Steve admitted reluctantly.  “But I convinced him to lie down quietly and he promised he’ll yell if he needs anything.”

            “Uh huh,” Tim said skeptically.

            “Shut up,” Steve pouted and grabbed a bottle of water to bring back to Christian’s room.

            >^..^<

            The tantalizing smell of brewing coffee coaxed Christian out of sleep the next morning.  His nose twitched, his stomach growled loudly, and his bladder began to send him insistent messages regarding the bottles of water he’d consumed with his meds.  As he tried to sit up, pain stabbed through his ribs forcing him back down with a groan.  That seemed to be the signal for every other bruised and battered portion of his anatomy to set up a chorus of aches and another involuntary moan passed his lips.  Footsteps heralded Steve’s arrival with a hot cup of coffee in each hand.  “Chris?  You up?”

            “I don’t think I’d exactly call it ‘up’,” Chris responded with a grimace.  “Everything stiffened up overnight, man.  I can’t move and it’s sort of imperative.”

            Steve chuckled as he put the coffee down, levered Christian to his feet, and helped him shuffle to the bathroom.  Once the door closed between them, he sat on the bed and took a pull from his own cup waiting to see if he would be needed further.  Looking up as Christian came back into the room, Steve noted his wistful expression and the disgust which crossed his face as he ran a hand through his lank and lifeless hair.  “What’s up, Chris?”

            A faint blush stained Christian’s cheeks.  “Last time I needed help takin’ a bath I was four years old … I feel so gross, man.”

            Blinking in stunned surprise, Steve set his coffee down abruptly.  This wasn’t something he had considered when he volunteered to help Christian during his recuperation.  And given the changed circumstances between them he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle it.  He cleared his throat, “What do you need help with?” he hoped his voice was steadier than the flock of bats taking wing in his stomach.

            “Um …” Christian was clearly as uncomfortable with this as he was.  “Getting in and out of the tub for starters … Washing my back …”

            Steve held up a hand to stop him.  “Okay.  One ‘Carlson Deluxe’ coming up.”

            “Uh … ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” Christian’s jaw dropped.

            “Uh huh.  I had a – uh – an old girlfriend who used to love it when I gave her ‘the treatment’.”  When it became obvious that Christian was not going to move without encouragement, Steve led the way into the master bathroom and began to fill the over-sized tub.  He found a full container of bath gel and poured some in thinking that the silliness of the bubbles might help to diffuse an increasingly awkward situation.

            The room was soon warm and steamy and Steve helped to strip and unbandage Christian as quickly and efficiently as he could.  His jaw clenched tightly as the full extent of the bruising was revealed and now Christian’s sprained ankle was swollen to the size of a softball.  “We’ll get some ice on that as soon as you settle down after breakfast.”

            “Sounds good,” Christian agreed and held tightly to Steve’s biceps to keep as much weight off of the ankle as he could while he maneuvered himself into the tub.  With a little assistance he was soon seated with hot, soapy water lapping around his chest.

            Steve dutifully picked up a washcloth and sponged down Christian’s tanned back.  He watched the lines of pain around Christian’s mouth ease imperceptibly and smiled as his friend leaned back and closed his eyes.  “Don’t go to sleep in there,” he warned with a smile.

            “Yes, mom.”

            “I’ll ‘mom’ you in a minute, you dork.  Is there anything else you want help with before I go see what we have on tap for breakfast?”

            “Um …” Christian hesitated.

            “Yes?” Steve asked warily.

            “I can’t really move my shoulder and my hair is driving me nuts.”

            Steve sighed.  “The things I do for you, Kane … Okay … Slide towards the other end of the tub.”

            “What?!”

            “Would you relax?  I need room to lower your head without straining your ribs too much.”  Christian nodded and shifted down the tub.  Steve held his head steady, avoiding the stitches as best he could, and lowered him to just above the water.  He cupped Christian’s skull in one hand and wet the dark locks thoroughly before sitting him back up and grabbing the shampoo from the shelf over the faucet.

            Taking great care not to splash shampoo in his friend’s eyes, or re-open the stitches, Steve worked the shampoo into a rich, thick lather and gently massaged the scalp underneath.  He scanned the countertop and saw the large plastic cup that was holding Christian’s toothbrush.  Rinsing it out first, he brought it over to the tub and filled it with warm, clean water from the faucet and poured it over Christian’s head.  Steve repeated the process several times stroking through the water-logged curls, rinsing them clean while holding Christian’s head securely to stop him from sliding completely under the water.

            Steve found himself enjoying the different sensations as the shampoo washed away.  He was fascinated by the way the silken strands molded themselves around Christian’s face and clung to his own fingers as he gingerly combed through it.  Shaking his head to clear it, Steve reached for the shelf again to bring over Christian’s disposable razor and shaving soap.

            Christian didn’t even open his eyes as Steve lathered his face and made the first stroke up his throat.  He just sighed and sank deeper into the water.  The ‘Carlson Deluxe’ was something he could get used to very quickly.  “Mmmm, feels good,” he purred.  “Hey, don’t forget to wash behind my ears long as you’re back there, Steve.”

            Steve snorted and flicked the most accessible earlobe with his finger.  He rinsed the dregs of soap from Christian’s face and helped him sit upright.  Yanking the plug free he held out a huge fluffy bath towel.  “Damn!” Christian cursed.  “A little help here?” he asked and looked up at Steve.  Draping the towel around Christian’s shoulders, Steve wrapped his arms around Christian’s waist and shifted his own weight to lift the injured man out of the tub and settle him on the closed toilet seat lid.

            “Hang on while I grab a towel for your hair.”  Steve pulled a second towel off the rack.  He began another soothing massage on the dripping hair as Christian patted himself dry and tied the towel around his waist.

            Christian sat quietly as Steve re-bandaged his ribs and ankle and helped him into clean boxers, sweat pants, thick socks, and a fleecy zip-up hoodie.  He couldn’t hide his astonishment, however when Steve picked up one of his combs and began to ease the tangles from his hair.  “More of the ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” he teased gently.

            “Just don’t get used to this, your highness.  As soon as your butt’s out of traction, so to speak, this slave is going to stage a revolt,” Steve responded sternly as he concentrated on his task but when their eyes met in the slowly clearing mirror he was smiling shyly.

            >^..^<

            The rest of the day passed quietly for both men.  Christian spent a lot of it asleep as he let his exhausted body continue the healing process.  When he woke up he would take a slow amble through the house to keep his muscles from seizing up again but he would soon return to his nest of blankets and cushions on the couch with his ankle elevated and occasionally iced.

            Steve investigated the bookshelves and commandeered one of the recliners with his shoes off and a few choices he thought might be interesting.  He was perfectly content to sit reading and keeping an eye on Christian as the other man napped his way through the day.  He was privately amused to see a Kane who wasn’t racing from one project to the next in order to keep everything he tried to juggle in motion.

            It was early evening when Christian finally broke the companionable silence.  “If I don’t stay awake for at least a little while I’m never gonna sleep through the night.”  He rubbed at his eyes and stretched some kinks out of his back with a slight ‘ouch’ as the muscles under his ribs protested the movement.

            “Why don’t you try watching something on TV or pick a movie out.”  Steve stood and stretched himself.  “How about I put a couple of chops under the broiler for dinner and then we can fire up the air popper and do a movie in style?”

            “I think I can do that.”

            “And don’t forget …”

            “ … To take your pills,” Christian chimed in the last half of the sentence and sighed.  “I was wrong, you know.”

            Steve stopped in the doorway between the entertainment room and the kitchen, “About what?”

            “You’re way worse than my mama ever was,” Christian chuckled and followed him into the kitchen.

            =^..^=

            “ _Aliens_!” Christian directed towards the kitchen.

            Steve wandered in with a huge bowl of buttery popcorn.  “That sounds good.”

            “We have a winner!” Christian grinned and slid the movie into the DVD player before joining Steve on the couch.  “It don’t get much better than this, man.  Movies, popcorn, and a good friend to share them with.”

            The simple statement caught Steve off guard.  Even though he knew that Christian had forgotten where their relationship had been heading, to hear it spoken out loud like that sent a twinge of pain through his already aching heart.  He swallowed down the hurt and simply said, “Yeah, Chris, it’s great!”

             

            Part of the way through the movie Steve noticed Christian rubbing his eyes continually.  “Headache still bugging you?” he asked quietly.

            “Yeah,” Christian confirmed and knuckled his eyes again.  “Thought it’d go away if I relaxed and took more pain pills but it’s gotten worse.”

            Steve scooted to the far end of the sofa and crossed his legs, placing a pillow in the valley they formed.  “Lie down and put your head in my lap,” he instructed.  Christian’s raised eyebrows expressed doubts the smaller man did not voice.  “I’d like to try a little relaxation technique I learned from a friend in college.  He was minoring in physio-therapy and used to practice on me.  It’s cool, dude.”  Christian still looked skeptical but propped his injured ankle on the other armrest and lay back easing his head back on the pillow.  Steve placed his hands gently on Christian’s shoulders and felt the bunching muscles beneath his hands.  “Jesus, Kane, I’m not gonna strangle you.  Will you loosen up?”

            Christian looked up at him guiltily.  “Sorry, man.  This is just a bit weird, okay?”  He took several breaths and closed his eyes.

            Steve could still see the erratic pulse beating in the hollow of Christian’s throat but it was gradually slowing down and the weight in his lap increased as Christian let himself unwind.  “That’s better,” he said and began to stroke his fingers lightly across Christian’s forehead.  He let his fingertips pick up the sensations of the smooth skin; the tension lines radiating up from between Christian’s eyebrows.  His hands drifted lower, down the other man’s face towards his high cheekbones, and he began tracing a slow swathe from the center of Christian’s forehead down to his jawline, paying special attention to the shallow depression of his temples.  

            “Mmmmmm,” Christian rumbled deep in his throat.  “Steve, that feels fantastic.”  His words were slurring as he relaxed even further into the tranquilizing feeling of the feather-light touches skimming across his skull.  Steve used his thumbs to keep up a gentle rhythm on Christian’s temples, but the rest of his fingers drifted down through his hair to the corded muscles in his neck and he began a massage similar to the one Christian had enjoyed when Steve had washed his hair earlier.

            Steve smiled as Christian gave himself up totally to the soothing feeling, going completely boneless under his touch for a full fifteen minutes.  “How’s the head feel?” he eventually asked in a voice just above a whisper.

            “Hnnnh?” Christian opened eyes which were hazy from relaxation.  “Better.  Thanks, man.”

            “Don’t thank me yet.  We’re not finished.”  Steve helped Christian sit up and raised an admonishing finger.  “Stay here.”

            “Uh huh,” Chris yawned and tried to refocus on the movie.  Ripley was having a quiet mother/daughter moment with the cute, non-annoying kid but nothing really exciting was happening.

            Steve returned carrying towels and a tube of the liniment that Doctor Cameron had given them.  He put them on the floor and added some of the cushions from the couch to his supplies.  “I think part of your problem is that you’re wound tighter than a spring.  I wanna give you a rubdown with the stuff the doc gave me for your bruises.  It should also help loosen up the rest of your muscles; you’ve probably been carrying yourself stiffly to compensate for the injuries and you threw everything else out of whack, too.”

            “Okay,” Christian agreed easily and helped as much as he could when Steve stripped him down to his boxers and unwound the bandages from his chest.

            “You need to lay on your stomach first,” Steve instructed as he covered the cushions with the towels to keep from getting the crème all over the place.  “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable and I’ll grab more cushions to prop you up.”  Christian nodded and accepted help to get himself into a prone position on the floor.  Steve was careful not to move him too quickly or make him twist suddenly and the maneuver was accomplished more or less painlessly.  “You want a pillow under your head?”

            “No.  ‘m fine just the way I am,” Christian responded resting his chin on his left wrist so he could watch the movie while Steve worked on him.

            “Say something if this is too much.”  At Christian’s nod, Steve warmed some of the liniment in his hands and began to spread it over Christian’s back and arms.  To both of their surprise the ointment had a pleasant baby powder scent instead of the astringent medicine smell usually associated with muscle rubs.  They inhaled deeply and sighed at the same time sending Christian into a fit of giggles.  “Ow.  Ow!” he whimpered as the spasms hit his abused muscles.

            Steve kept up his stroking motion making sure all of the excess crème was smoothed into Christian’s back and shoulders before giving the same attention to his legs.  “Okay, Chris, we need to get you over on your back.  Any suggestions?”

            “Um, yeah.”  Pushing himself up gingerly to lie on his left side, Chris rolled to his back with a slight ‘oof’ sound.

            Steve chuckled.  “Very graceful.  Ready for the flip side?”  Christian nodded and closed his eyes.

            Steve went back to work again; he paid special attention to the bruising around Christian’s ribs and his right hip which had taken the brunt of the initial contact with the stunt car.  He was pleased to note that he didn’t seem to be causing his friend any additional discomfort with his ministrations.    His own emotional turmoil was stomped down mercilessly as he performed this very intimate favor.  It had no place in their current circumstances and he wasn’t about to give away the fact that he was dying inside while Christian had no idea why.

            Finally finished, Steve wiped his hands on one of the left-over towels.  “I’ll help you back into your sweats after I wash my hands.  Should I make up an ice pack for your ankle while I’m in the kitchen?”

            “I guess,” Christian replied and stretched as far as he could marveling at the difference he could feel in his joints.  “Hey, Steve?  I really appreciate all the stuff you’re doin’ for me.  You’re really going above and beyond, man.”

            “Don’t mention it, Chris,” Steve called from the kitchen.  “I’m sure you’d do the same for me if the circumstances were reversed.”  He swallowed the lump that was threatening his vocal chords.

            Steve returned with the ice pack and got Christian dressed and secured on the couch before he cleared the towels, liniment and cushions from the middle of the floor.  Christian took that opportunity to back the DVD up to where Ripley and Hicks were headed out in search of Newt and the two men settled in to watch the rest of the movie in an easy, relaxed silence.

            >^..^<

            Christian came awake suddenly with a shout and sat upright in his bed.  His face was covered with sweat-matted hair and his heart was pounding like crazy.  He heard the thud of bare feet in the hall and Steve burst through his door with his own hair in complete disarray.  “Chris?!” Steve asked in concern.

            “Sorry, man,” he panted.  “Was a dream … I think.  Unless … did I get hit by the stunt car?” he pushed the hair out of his eyes and squinted at the other man.

            “You remembered?” Steve said cautiously, hopefully.

            “So … I did?” Christian questioned again.

            “Afraid so, dude,” Steve confirmed.

            “Crap!  Is David all right?” Christian was concerned for the guy who’d been driving the car.

            “Pretty much,” Steve reassured him.  “He was a little shook up but no injuries.”

            Christian sighed.  “That’s good to know.  When do they want us to try to shoot the stunt again?  Or didn’t they tell you.”

            “I talked to John a little yesterday and he said they were going to do it today and use a stunt guy with a different angle so ‘Eliot’s’ face wasn’t visible.”

            “Huh!” Christian huffed.  “Guess I’m done for now then, huh?”

            “Um … yeah,” Steve said wondering where this was going.

            “Damn it!  We had a gig at Dante’s last night, didn’t we?”

            “Eric cancelled everything we had on the books for the next couple weeks.”

            “Shit!  I’m sorry, man.  Got you and the guys up here for nothing,” Christian hung his head.

            Steve felt like someone had punched him in the heart.  So Christian hadn’t gotten all of his memories back.  But he was still determined to continue on with his plan.  “It’s okay, Chris.  They were all able to get flights back home yesterday … even Eric.  I told him I’d let him know how you were doing.”

            “You’re the best,” Chris smiled.

            Steve tried to smile back but he knew it never reached his eyes.  “Thanks, Chris.  That means a lot.”

            “Steve?” Christian questioned.  He was more alert now and had a feeling something wasn’t right.  “What’s up, man?”  He noticed that even though it looked like Steve had been in bed, his eyes were bloodshot with heavy dark circles under them.

            “Uh … nothing.  I’m just tired.  It’s been a stressful couple of days, you know?” Steve lied and passed a hand over his face.  “If you’re okay, I think I’ll head back to bed.”

            Christian frowned but he obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of Steve tonight.  Maybe after the other man got some rest he’d be more willing to open up about whatever was bothering him.

            He settled down and it didn’t take long for him to fall back to sleep.

            >^..^<>^..^<>^..^<>^..^<

            When Christian woke up the next morning he stretched slowly and was amazed at how much better he felt.  There was do doubt in his mind that everything Steve had done for him the day before was responsible for his overall feeling of well-being and lack of pain.  He stretched a little more and sat up gingerly waiting for his body to tell him this was a very bad idea and when nothing happened, he eased himself out of bed and took care of his most urgent needs before ambling out to the kitchen.  There was a distinct lack of fresh coffee smell and he mentally crossed his fingers that it meant Steve was still sleeping.  The man had looked like fifty miles of bad road when he’d hustled into his room last night in the wake of his nightmare.

            His hopes were dashed when he rounded the corner to see Steve slumped over the table in the kitchen nook; his left arm was stretched across the table, the right was tucked under his cheek and a pencil lay within touching distance of the fingers of his semi-curled right hand where it had apparently fallen when the exhausted man had succumbed to his need for sleep.  The notebook that Steve usually kept with him when ideas for songs and lyrics struck him was just under his chin and Christian could see scribbles and places where Steve had crossed out some words and replaced them with others.  He hoped that Steve had either managed to get whatever was floating around in that incredible brain of his down on paper or that he’d remember it again when it woke up if he hadn’t.  In the meantime, it was time for him to start pulling some of the weight around here and coffee was a necessity in his house in the mornings.

            Christian tried hard to make sure he didn’t do anything to wake up his housemate.  Limping across the floor he grabbed a couple of the bottled waters that hadn’t been put into the refrigerator to chill yet and used them in lieu of turning on the faucet.  Thankfully he didn’t have to grind any of the coffee beans, there was plenty of already ground stuff left over from the day before for at least the first pot.  Unfortunately when he reached up to grab the coffee filters from the top shelf of one of the cabinets, his ribs gave him a sharp reminder that this was not something he should be doing yet and the resulting spasm of his fingers sent the box of filters tumbling down to the countertop.

            Steve startled awake immediately and jumped out of his chair with enough force to send it crashing to the floor behind him.  “Chris?!” he blurted out looking around wildly, “Chris?!!”

            Christian was stunned by the reaction.  He’d woken Steve from a sound sleep before but never with such an extreme reaction.  “It’s okay, Steve.  I’m right here, man.  I just dropped the coffee filters.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”  He moved slowly towards the other man with a hand outstretched to offer help if it was needed.

            Steve was gasping for breath and shaking visibly.  His eyes were wide as he took in the sight of his friend standing in front of him with no apparent additional damage in evidence.  The next thing he knew he was sitting on the hard floor after his legs decided that they didn’t need to be supporting his weight any longer and he started chuckling, “God aren’t we a pair,” he said ruefully and dragged a hand through his hair.  He took a second look up at Christian, “You look better this morning.”

            “Feel better, too, thanks to you,” Christian’s smile lit up the room.  “I slept great after that nightmare and even though I’m still sore, it’s nothing like it was.  Think the ‘Carlson Deluxe’ needs to be written up in some medical book somewhere as a miracle cure or something.”  Steve chuckled again.  “I mean it, man.”

            Regaining his feet, Steve took the box of coffee filters from Christian’s hand.  “You know, you really don’t have to try that hard to get me to help you out again, Chris,” he smiled and shuffled towards the coffee maker.

            Christian scrubbed his hands through his unruly mane of hair in frustration, “What? … Wait … No! That wasn’t it at all, man!  I meant … It was …” Christian looked up to see Steve’s shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.  “Fuck you, Carlson!” he said with no heat in his voice.

            When Steve turned back from setting up the coffee maker he was still smiling.  “Do you want help with your bath this morning?”

            “I think I can handle this mission on my own,” Christian snorted.  “And so you know?  I’m not the only one in need of a good scrubbin’.”

            “You saying I stink?”

            The eloquent uplifting of one of Christian’s eyebrows was the only response given as he sauntered back out of the kitchen.

            “And to think I was going to make you Belgian waffles for breakfast this morning,” Steve shot back.  “I hope you like Cheerios, Kane.”

            “I’d like lots of butter and real maple syrup on those waffles, Carlson,” Christian’s voice echoed down the hall.

            Steve hung his head in defeat.  Yeah, he’d make the damned waffles.  As if there was ever any doubt.

             

            Christian knew he was well on his way to healing when he couldn’t settle down during the day.  He had no desire to nap any more and even sitting in front of the big screen TV and watching the sports channel held little to no appeal.  Unfortunately, Steve was hovering around him like a nervous mama hen from hell.  No matter that he was exhausted himself, he always managed to be in the room whenever Christian got it into his head to do something; if he wasn’t doing his best to keep Christian from trying anything that might strain his healing body he was fluttering around the house tidying up like a maniac and unable to slow down or relax.  The only time he seemed to stop moving even for a brief period of time was when he stepped out onto the deck for a cigarette.

            Steve happened to be outside when the doorbell rang.  Knowing that the chimes couldn’t be heard on the deck, Christian strolled to the front of the house to answer it and was delighted to find Timothy Hutton and John Rogers standing on the front stoop.

            “Christian!” John greeted.  “Good to see you up and around!  You feeling all right?”

            “Better than I was,” Christian responded with a hearty left-handed handshake thanks to Steve’s insistence on the sling for his bruised shoulder.  “It’s gonna take a little time but I’m definitely on the mend.  Hey, Tim.”

            “Chris,” the older actor smiled and offered his own left hand.  “Didn’t expect to see you when the door opened.”

            “Steve’s on the back patio,” Chris said.  “Smoke break.  Why don’t you come on in.  Sit down.  Have a beer or something.”

            “We don’t want to be a bother,” John replied.  “We decided to stop in and see how you were doing.”

            “No bother at all.  It’d probably do us good to have someone else around to talk to right now.”

            “Ah!” Tim said knowledgably.  “Going stir crazy already are you?” he asked as he and John entered the house and followed Christian to the sliding doors that opened out to the deck.

            “Steve’s driving me a little nuts,” Chris admitted.  “I know he got a scare with the accident but I’m doing a lot better – thanks mostly to him, by the way.”

            “Oh yeah?” Tim speculated.

            “Remind me sometime to tell you about the ‘Carlson Deluxe’,” Christian said and slid the door open.  “Hey, Steve, we got company!” he called as they walked out.

            Timothy had to work hard to hide his shock at the change in Steve’s appearance.  He seemed to have aged years in the short time since Christian had been home.  “Steve,” he said casually, “how’re things?”

            “Oh, you know,” Steve tried for a chipper response, “Chris is being his normal self …”

            “Don’t you start, Carlson,” Christian bantered good-naturedly.

            Steve stubbed his cigarette out.  “Can I get you guys anything?  We’ve got beer … soda … water …”

            “You got any of that whiskey left from the other night?” Tim asked hopefully.

            “There’s whiskey and you didn’t tell me?” Christian pouted.

            “And there’s a reason for that,” Steve responded without missing a beat.  “Yeah, Tim, you want some of that?”

            Tim nodded and John chimed in, “Make that two.”

            “Make that …” Christian started.

            “Three whiskeys and a bottle of water,” Steve overrode what the other man was about to say and ignored the single fingered salute that was thrown his way as he turned to go inside.

            As soon as the door was closed, Tim turned to Christian, “He looks like hell.”

            “I know.  I don’t think he’s slept much since the accident.  I don’t think he can yet.  There’s something bugging him but he won’t say what it is.”

            “You remembered the accident,” Tim said.  “That’s good.”

            “Yeah, but I have a feeling there’s something else and it’s the ‘something else’ that’s tied into what Stevie isn’t telling me.”

            “The doc did say to let you remember stuff on your own,” John said.

            “But when do we stop waiting and just have someone tell me?” the frustration shone through in Christian’s question.

            “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” John asked.

            “Another couple of days.  He wanted to check the stitches on the back of my head and see how the strains and sprains were doing.”

            “Ask him then,” Tim suggested.  “If he says it’s okay for someone to tell you, maybe Steve will open up.”

            “And if he doesn’t?” Christian challenged.

            “Let me talk to Steve,” Tim offered.  “Either he’ll tell you or I will.  He doesn’t need this thing tearing him apart any more than it already has.”

            “Deal,” Christian agreed as the door slid open and Steve backed onto the deck with a tray full of shot glasses, the bottle of whiskey and water for Christian.  “By the way, Tim,” Christian continued, “I wanted to apologize that you stayed on up here for nothing when the show got cancelled the other night.”

            “Not a problem, Chris.  I was happy to do it and help out Steve when I could,” Tim nodded.

            “Thanks, man.  Appreciate it,” he tapped Tim’s shot glass with his water bottle in a toast.

            Steve downed his first shot and immediately poured a second.  He sipped at the second one, smiled brightly and said, “Hey!  You guys should stay for a late lunch, early dinner!  I can toss some burgers or steaks on the grill and we can have a cook out since it’s so nice outside.”

            Christian frowned and glanced over at Tim and John.  Both men were looking a little apprehensive but obviously didn’t want to say no and disappoint Steve.  “You sure you’re up to this, Steve?  You’re looking a little ragged around the edges,” Christian tried for diplomacy.  “We can do this some other time like when I’m feeling better and can have a damned beer and you don’t look like you’re dead on your feet.”

            “What?” Steve frowned.  “I’m fine.  You know I love to feed people.”

            John, Tim and Christian looked at each other and Christian just shrugged.  Tim sighed but sensed that this was important to Steve so he answered for all of them, “That sounds great, Steve.  Let us know what we can do to help.”

            “Not a thing,” Steve declined the offer.  “It’s not that much work and this way the three of you can catch up and talk a little shop.”

             

            The food was excellent as was the company.  The whiskey continued to flow and stories got funnier and raunchier as tongues were loosened.

            Christian kept a surreptitious eye on Steve as the afternoon progressed into evening.  Steve was one of the most affectionate people he knew once he’d gotten a few drinks under his belt and tonight was no exception.  Christian knew that Steve was comfortable around Tim thanks to the time the three of them spent together away from the studio and set locations and he watched as Steve draped himself over Tim’s shoulder helpless with laughter.  Christian also noticed several times when it looked like Steve was going to reach out to him in the same manner only to stop as a fleeting hint of sadness and loss passed over his face.  That look caused a pang in Christian’s heart and it really bothered him that he had no idea why. He needed to know; he just had to figure out how to go about it.

              Several hours later Tim and John dragged a boneless Steve through the house and to his room.  The younger man was pretty much unconscious on his feet and there was no way Christian could have handled him on his own.  Christian trailed behind the trio and watched as they removed Steve’s shoes and jeans before laying him on the mattress, gently pulling the blankets over him.  Steve whimpered and rolled to his side with his right hand reaching out for god knew what before he settled and became still once more.

            “You guys okay to drive?” Christian asked as the three men made their way to the front door.

            “We both stopped a while ago when we realized Steve wasn’t going to,” John answered soberly.  “We’re fine.”

            “Thanks again for comin’ by.  This was real nice,” Christian said and followed them as far as the stoop.  He watched until they made the turn at the end of his street before he went back in to lock up for the night and finish putting things away.

            He bypassed his own room and took one more look in on Steve.  He was now clutching something in his right hand but the light spilling in from the hallway wasn’t enough for him to make out what it was.  Frowning, Christian pulled the door partially shut and went back to the entertainment room.  He wasn’t quite sleepy enough to settle down and his brain was churning with thoughts and ideas on what could possibly be spinning around in Steve’s quirky brain.  He was going to get to the bottom of it one way or another and sooner rather than later.

            >^..^<>^..^<>^..^<>^..^<

            The house was still the next morning when Christian resurfaced.  He’d managed to sleep the entire night through without even a hint of the nightmare that had woken him so abruptly the night before.  He remembered flashes of the dreams that he did have but all of them left him feeling warm inside: He and Steve playing gigs, goofing around on the _Leverage_ set, the two of them out partying with friends, having dinner, attending sporting events, and numerous other good times they’d had together through the years.  In every memory they were laughing, joking, teasing, and touching; nothing like the restrained caution that Steve had exhibited the day before out on the deck.  Then there was a flash that wasn’t so clear … the two of them nose to nose inside his dressing trailer.  He didn’t have the feeling they were fighting, though, since this fuzzy flash gave him one of the warmest feelings of all, he just wished he could break through the fog and figure out why.

            His first stop, after he scrubbed the layer of crud off of his teeth and tied his unruly hair back out of his face until he could shampoo it again, was Steve’s room.  The man apparently hadn’t moved since Christian had seen him the night before but the deep even breaths he could hear let him know he was still sleeping the sleep of the well and truly drunk.  He smiled and headed out to the kitchen.  When Steve finally did resurface he was going to need hot coffee and dry toast and lots of it.

            Christian decided that his ankle and ribs felt well enough to endure a shower rather than a sit down bath so he set the coffee pot up to start brewing on its own, got the bread out for toasting, and headed towards the master bathroom whistling softly under his breath.

            The first thing he heard as he approached his bedroom was the sound of Steve being violently ill in the guest bathroom.  “Here we go,” he grimaced and detoured to where the tortured sounds were coming from.

            Steve was a shivering lump on the tiled floor, the greenish tinge to his face clashing with the deep blue plush bath towels.  “You’re up,” he groaned and reached to flush the toilet on his own.

            “Bet you wish you weren’t,” Christian said sympathetically and handed him a cup of water to rinse his mouth out with.  “Think you’re done?” he asked quietly in deference to the pounding head that was evidenced by the heaviness in the bloodshot eyes.

            “Maybe?” Steve responded just as softly and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.  “Hey!  How are you doing this morning?”

            “Good … I’m good,” Christian leaned against the doorway and watched as Steve bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face and neck.  “I’m a little worried about you.”

            Steve smiled crookedly.  “Don’t be.  This was self-inflicted and I’ll live,” he dismissed Christian’s concerns and patted his face dry.

            Christian scratched the scruff on his neck and stood up straight, “When you’re ready come on in to the kitchen.  I’ve got coffee going and I know just how dry you want your toast.”

            “Thanks, Chris,” Steve said softly and slumped to sit on the edge of the tub.  Christian took that as his cue to leave and headed back to the kitchen.

             

            Christian’s plan to talk to Steve never quite got off the ground.  Even after a shower, Steve still looked like crap and made no attempt at conversation as he choked down a couple pieces of dry toast and tried to inhale an ocean’s worth of hot, sweet coffee.  His eyes were so bloodshot it almost looked like they were bleeding and the pained and pinched look around them wasn’t going away even with the aspirin he was taking at four hour intervals.

            Deciding that retreat was his best option, Christian took himself off for a long, hot shower and then brought his iPod and a book out to the deck to let his hair air dry in the warm-ish late morning sunshine.  

             

            When Christian went back inside a few hours later to put something together for lunch, the door to the music studio bedroom was closed letting him know where Steve had gone to find sanctuary.  He strolled down the hallway and put his ear to the door; he figured if he didn’t hear anything it would be safe for him to interrupt and see if Steve was hungry by any chance.  A perplexed look crossed his face as he heard the sound of the little spinet piano being pounded forcefully coming through the door; Steve didn’t normally use a piano when he was writing; he preferred to work through the music with his trusty guitar.

            Not wanting to stop the creative process in progress, Christian headed down the hall but as he walked by Steve’s room he glanced in and saw what he thought was the item Steve had been clutching in his sleep the night before lying on top of the sleep rumpled bed covers.  His curiosity won out so he entered the room and picked up the small, framed photo.  The breath left his body in a loud whoosh as he saw what was in the picture.  It was him … and Steve … and … just … Wow!  The look that was smoldering between them … he was lucky the photo wasn’t scorching his fingers from inside the frame.  How could he not … 

            And suddenly that brief spark of memory from his on set trailer was back.  Only this time he saw it all.  The affectionate, teasing banter.  The complete lack of personal space between them.  The two of them moving in closer … closer … closer to each other before the untimely interruption.  One more memory surfaced of him waking up earlier that same morning wrapped around Steve like an octopus with his nose buried in the other man’s soft, wavy hair.  Holy shit!  Was this what Steve had been keeping from him since the accident?  His mind flashed quickly on all of the times in the past few days when Steve had made a natural move to reach out to him but then pulled back with a sad or strange look on his face.  “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Christian growled softly and tucked the photo carefully into the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and pulled his t-shirt out to cover it before heading back to the music room.

            He could still hear the piano but it was quieter now – more pianissimo than fortissimo – like a gentle rain shower compared to a thunder and lightning storm.  He eased the door open and slid quietly into the room to wait for an appropriate moment to make his presence known.

            Steve was singing quietly, a soft whisper of silk over fine sandpaper …

            I’m sure you’ll never tell _About the boy you used to see But don’t worry I won’t sing_ About everything … between you … and me

            His voice broke completely on the last line and Christian realized that no matter what the original motivation had been for the song, it had become very personal for Steve in the end.  The final piano chord faded to nothing and the only sound in the room was Steve’s labored breathing as he tried to bring his emotions under control.

            Moving further into the room, Christian softly said, “So … when .. when were you gonna tell me?”

            Steve jumped and very nearly slid off the slippery surface of the piano bench.  He scrubbed at his eyes and said, “I wasn’t,” and couldn’t even look Christian in the eye.

            Christian sat next to Steve on the bench, “Why the hell not, Steve?  I can see it’s been eating away at you … killin’ you inside.”  He tried to keep his anger out of his voice but knew he hadn’t succeeded all the way.

            Steve’s shoulders slumped even further, “It wouldn’t have been right or fair to you.  I thought it was better this way since you didn’t remember …”

            “Better?” Christian was flabbergasted.  “Better for who?  Me?  I knew something was wrong even if I didn’t have the slightest idea what it might be.”  He wanted to reach out and thwack Steve upside the head but now was not the time or place since he didn’t know how the gentle teasing would be taken.

            “So …. What happened?  What triggered your memory?” Steve avoided Christian’s questions all together.

            “This,” Christian placed the photo on top of the piano where both of them could see it.  “It’s all there, Steve.”  He took a deep breath knowing that his next words could drive a wedge between them for good, “When did you decide to give up on us? … To stop loving me.”

            A tear streaked down Steve’s cheek.  He thumbed it away and finally turned to face Christian head on, “That’s just it, Chris.  I never stopped.  I just … I loved you enough to let you go.”

            That stopped Christian in his tracks.  His mouth opened and closed a few times but no words were forthcoming.  He could only stare in humbled awe at Steve knowing what he had been prepared to give up if Christian hadn’t remembered on his own.

            Steve squirmed under that intense gaze and looked away blinking back the damned tears that were so close to the surface at all times these days.  When Steve finally looked back at Christian, he was staring at Steve’s hands as they rested on the piano keyboard.  Steve twisted his fingers together waiting for Christian to say something … anything … just so he knew where they stood.

            When Christian finally looked up again, he knew his face was full of regret at the pain he had inadvertently caused.  He smiled warmly and said, “I don’t – don’t know if I should smack you for bein’ such an idiot or kiss you senseless and put all this behind us so we can move on.”

            Steve huffed out a shaky breath and nodded, “Can I put my vote in for which option I’d pick?” he asked softly.

            “C’mere,” Christian rasped, cupping his hand behind Steve’s head and pulling him closer … closer …

            Christian ghosted his mouth across Steve’s, the barest brush of lips on lips, eliciting a quiet, needy moan deep in Steve’s throat.  As if that was the signal he’d been waiting for, Christian dove in for another kiss – a real kiss – mouth open … demanding – and receiving – entrance, allowing their tongues to meet and mate in a lazy duel.  The only sounds in the room were soft sighs and the occasional breathy moan as one or the other of them breathed in deeply through their nose.

            They broke briefly to pant for air until Steve let out a whimper and brought them back together.  Christian pulled away slowly, nipping at Steve’s chin and lower lip along the way.  Steve returned the favor by nibbling at Christian’s upper lip and planting a tiny bite on the tip of his nose.  Christian cupped Steve’s face in both hands and chuckled as he leaned in for more hungry kisses.  And if the taste of Steve’s happy tears flavored the kiss, neither man was about to say anything as they reveled in each other’s closeness.

            With a gasp, Steve pushed Christian away gently.  He wiped the moisture off of his face saying, “We can’t … we haven’t …”

            “Shhhhhhh, babe,” Christian said quietly.  “It’s okay.  We’ve waited long enough.  Talkin’ ain’t gonna change the way we feel about each other.”  Steve hesitated.  He blinked slowly and swallowed.  “I’m not askin’ for anything right now … today,” Christian continued.  “Need time to take care of you the way you been takin’ care of me.  But once you’re feelin’ up to it? ….. “ he trailed off with a sexy smile.

            A choked sob escaped from Steve’s throat and the next thing he knew he was being held in Christian’s strong arms as he cried out all of the pain and heartache of the past few days.

            >^..^<

            The question Christian had been about to ask died on his lips as he re-entered the entertainment room to find Steve dozing on the couch.  They had finally moved from the music room after Steve’s emotional catharsis and Christian was doing his best to entice Steve to kick back and relax in the aftermath with an afternoon of music, conversation, and gentle, reassuring touches.

            He placed a large platter of peanut butter, crackers, cheese, grapes, cubed honeydew melon and apple slices on the coffee table within easy reach of the sofa and reached to drape an afghan over the sleeping man, trying not to wake him from his much needed rest.  He made one more trip to the kitchen to bring out some large bottles of icy cold water and found two sleepy blue eyes watching him as he put the bottles on coasters to protect the wood grain surface of the table.  “I didn’t mean to wake you, babe,” he smiled and sat down, raising Steve’s legs to slide in under them.

            “I was lonely,” Steve murmured and sat up so that they were shoulder to shoulder, “not to mention hungry.”  He leaned in to nuzzle Christian’s cheek.

            “Sounds like someone is feeling better?” Christian asked and popped a grape into Steve’s mouth.  “Not so queasy any more?”

            “Yup,” Steve responded and fed an apple slice topped with peanut butter to Christian and followed that up with a kiss.  “Um,” he smiled and licked his lips, “Reese’s got it all wrong.  Kane and peanut butter.  Definitely the way to go.”

            A chuckle rumbled deep in Christian’s throat as he leaned in to press butterfly soft kisses to each of Steve’s eyelids.  His callused palms cupped Steve’s jaw while his strong fingers wound their way through the tousled blond hair to begin a gentle knead to the base of his skull.  As the touches continued, Steve sighed going completely boneless under the soothing massage.  His head bowed down to rest on Christian’s shoulder; his hands were lying warm and lax on the top of Christian’s thigh.

            Reaching out with his left hand, Christian put a slice of cheese on one of the crackers and brought it up under Steve’s nose, “C’mon, babe, let’s get some food in you.  Now you’re feeling better the last thing you need is for a headache to settle in because you haven’t eaten.”

            Steve’s head rose slowly; his eyes were hazed over in relaxation and a dopey grin spread across his lips.  He didn’t speak but just opened his mouth looking a lot like a baby bird waiting for food from its parent.  He took the cracker halfway into his mouth but made no move to chew or swallow.  Instead he looked at Christian and waggled his eyebrows.  Christian took the hint, leaning in to bite the other half of the offered treat.  Their lips met in the middle setting off another round of lazy kissing.

            Steve’s stomach chose that moment to let out a healthy sounding growl that sent both men into gales of laughter.  Christian held his hands up in a ‘time out’ motion and pulled the entire tray over onto his lap.  “You want somethin’ more substantial or is this gonna do it?”

            “I don’t wanna risk anything more until we know how this is gonna settle,” Steve responded.

            “All right then.  Let’s dig in and see if we can find somethin’ to watch on TV.”  Christian grabbed the remote and started channel surfing.

            “Wait!” Steve called out as Christian flipped past the SyFy network.  “Back up a sec,” he reached for the remote.

            Christian batted his hand away, “I got it, man.  You just … you get to work on feeding that noisy beast there.”  He surfed back a couple of stations and blinked at what was on the screen.  “Dude … Seriously?” he asked as both of his eyebrows disappeared under his shaggy bangs.

            A playful pout settled on Steve’s face complete with a quivering lower lip.  “I’ll bet they’re doing a disaster movie day,” he said and gave a ridiculous bat of his eyes.  “I love disaster movie days.”

            “You’re creepin’ me out here,” Christian chuckled.  “If I leave this on will you promise to never do that again?” he gave an exaggerated shudder.

            “Cool!” Steve grinned and sat back with a handful of grapes.

            Christian shook his head in amusement before he leaned back and snuggled up into Steve’s right side with his head on the other man’s shoulder.  The only noise in the room for a while were the sounds of chewing and the occasional snort or chuckle as the implausible plot of a massive earthquake demolishing New York City played out.

            “Know what this movie needs?” Christian finally asked as he sucked peanut butter off of his finger.  Steve groaned deep in his throat and shivered.  “What?” Christian asked as he brought another sticky finger up to his mouth.  “You okay, man?”

            Steve grabbed Christian’s hand and stared at the peanut covered digits.  “You really don’t know?” he asked hoarsely.  Christian looked puzzled as he shook his head prompting Steve to bring the tasty fingers up to his own mouth and sucked the rest of the peanut butter off himself.  He smiled smugly as Christian’s eyes rolled back in his head and a breathy moan escaped his parted lips.  With one final swirl of his tongue around the pad of Christian’s finger, Steve finally released it with a soft, wet popping sound.  “So now do you get it?” he asked with an evil grin.

            “Ungh,” Christian responded with a hazy, blissed out expression.

            For a brief moment, Steve wished he had the nerve to snap a quick photo of Christian’s face but he didn’t want to risk getting a black eye or a broken nose when Christian came back to his senses.  He settled himself back on the couch and said, “I’m almost afraid to ask … but what was it you were saying about the movie needing something?”

            “Hnnnh … what?” Christian’s eyes slowly came back into focus.

            “You said the movie needed ….. “

            Christian blinked and looked at the television.  “Needs …” he cast his mind back to before Steve melted every brain cell he owned.  “Zombies!” he finally remembered.

            “Zombies?” Steve burst out laughing.  “Dude, it’s a disaster movie.  Earthquake? … New York in ruins?”

            “I’m telling you zombies could only improve it … or at least you wouldn’t be able to tell if the acting really is as bad as it is.  And – yeah – they got one thing right.  It is a disaster.”  Steve couldn’t respond through his giggles so Christian continued but this time his voice was soft and raspy, “By the way, that finger suckin’ thing?  Soon as both of us are feeling up to it …” he punctuated the insinuation with a cocky smirk.

            Steve drew in a deep breath and gulped.  His pupils dilated so only a slim ring of blue showed and his nostrils flared.

            “Good,” Christian acknowledged the stunned silence.  “Now you relax and watch your disaster of a movie.  I’m goin’ in the kitchen to throw together some Texas hash.  I’ll leave out the chili powder but the rest should be mild enough for you.”  He leaned in and claimed a long, slow kiss before pushing himself off the couch and sauntering out of the room.

             

            Christian had been right.  The simple dish of hamburger, rice, tomatoes, onions, and green pepper had been easy on his stomach and now that he was comfortably full, Steve was feeing much more like his old self again.

            Coming back into the entertainment room after cleaning up in the kitchen, Christian placed more bottled water with easy reach and asked, “Is New York still crumbling?”

            “Nope,” Steve grinned.  “Now there’s a volcano wiping out Los Angeles.”

            A long-suffering sigh escaped Christian’s lips, “It’s a good thing I love you, Carlson,” he smiled and wandered over to dim the lights.

            Steve’s eyes were wide and luminous with emotion, “I – I love you too, Kane,” he said huskily.

            Christian dropped to his knees and moved in again for some chaste kisses while Steve’s hand threaded through his hair to pull him closer for more heated interaction.

            It was Steve who drew away first.  “That can’t be comfortable on your knees, dude, and you’re still healing.  Come up here and get comfy with me.  We can share the afghan, too.”  Steve lay full length on the couch propped up on his left side and pulled Christian into position in front of him.  Christian’s head was pillowed on Steve’s left shoulder and Steve’s right arm draped over Christian’s waist.  “Oops, just a sec,” Steve murmured and reached for one of the small throw pillows.  He placed it under Christian’s right arm saying, “Don’t want to strain your shoulder, babe.”

            “Thank you,” Christian signed and turned his head to bring their lips together again.  

            Steve slipped his right hand under Christian’s shirt and began a soothing petting motion over the warm smooth skin of his belly.  Both men relaxed immediately and neither of them could think of anywhere else they’d rather be.

            “So … volcano in L.A.?” Christian asked and snuggled closer.

            “Um hmm,” Steve breathed into the other man’s ear.

            Christian chuckled softly.  “I’m tellin’ ya, man, zombies … I’m just sayin’.”

            “Whatever you say,” Steve said and nuzzled his way across Christian’s jawline to his already kiss swollen lips.  It didn’t take long before all thoughts of volcanoes and zombies were very distant memories.

            >^..^<    >^..^<    >^..^<    >^..^<

            Christian woke slowly the next morning, still wrapped in Steve’s loving embrace, his entire body basking in warmth and contentment.  There wasn’t a spare inch between them from chest to toe and at some point during the night Steve’s right leg had insinuated itself between Christian’s legs and was wrapped securely around Christian’s left shin to hold him even closer.  From the deep, even puffs of warm air periodically blowing across his right ear, Christian knew Steve was still sleeping and he hated to wake him but his bladder was about ready to burst and he really didn’t want to have to have the couch cleaned not to mention explaining how the embarrassing stain got there in the first place.

            He slowly, gently raised Steve’s right arm from his waist and placed it on Steve’s own thigh then he nudged Steve’s right leg out from between his.  Unfortunately when he tried to push himself into a sitting position he realized that sleeping on the sofa together – while romantic as all hell – had done nothing for his still healing body.  “Ooowww!” he groaned and subsided back on the couch.

            “Chris?” Steve’s sleep drowsy voice was muffled in the back of Christian’s neck.  “Is so’thin’ wrong?”

            “I need to pee,” Christian growled in frustration.

            “S’go,” Steve said and burrowed deeper into the back of the sofa.

            “Wish I could,” Christian whined.  “I can’t move.”  He tried – and failed – again to get up off of the couch.

            “Oh, babe, I’m sorry.  Let me help,” Steve offered and tried to move.  “Um … slight problem,” he said after a few moments of wiggling around.

            “Problem?” Christian ground out, “what fuckin’ problem?”

            “My entire left side is numb and my right side is staging a revolt in sympathy with you,” Steve moaned.  “Tonight we’re sleeping in a bed, right?”

            Christian chuckled.  “Yes.  We are.  Now to the more immediate problem …” He tried again, actually managing to get into a sitting position, and paused to let his body adjust to being upright.  When he finally pushed himself to his feet he stood swaying for a moment before taking off in a slow hobble down the hall.

             

            Steve had barely made it to his own feet when he caught sight of Christian limping back towards him.  His mouth fell open and his knees gave out dropping him back to the couch.  “Y – y – you,” he stammered as he gaped at Christian who appeared to be wearing a bath towel, a smile, and nothing else.  Steve tried again, “Y – y – you want me to help you in the shower?” he squeaked.

            “Nope,” Christian smirked and came closer.  “Had me a better idea.”  Steve’s eyes widened and he gulped audibly.  “We got us a nice hot tub out on the back deck and I think both of us could use a long soak before breakfast.”

            “O – okay,” Steve said weakly.

            “All right then,” Christian drawled and rubbed his hands together.

            “Um … I didn’t pack my trunks …” Steve’s brain hadn’t quite caught up to this mouth yet.

            “Really?” Christian snorted and raised an eyebrow; the way he was standing showed off one leg – tanned and enticingly bare – at least up to the top of his thigh.

            Blushing from his neck to the roots of his hair, Steve smacked himself in the forehead as he realized what he’d said.  “Duh,” he chuckled.

            “Now you go do what ya need to do.  I’ll be out revving up the bubbles,” Christian dropped a quick kiss on Steve’s forehead over the spot where he’d hit himself and headed out the sliding glass doors dropping the towel as he went.

            “Son of a …” Steve started and pushed himself off the sofa and trotted down the hallway.  Two could play that game.

             

            Christian was already in the hot tub with his eyes closed in pleasure when he heard the door slide open again.  “It’s about damned t –” he stopped speaking and slid off the seat in shock slipping completely under the water at the sight of Steve sauntering through the door – grinning and stark naked with his own folded bath towel in hand.

            Steve reached in the water and grabbed a hand to pull a spluttering Christian up to the surface.  “You were saying?” he laughed as he lowered himself into the hot tub completely submerging himself before moving to sit thigh to thigh with Christian.

            “You have no shame, do you?” Christian observed and pushed his wet mop of hair out of his face.

            “You complaining?” Steve countered cheekily.

            Before Steve could draw another breath, he found himself with a lapful of wet, naked, wriggling Christian.  “You tell me,” Christian breathed.  “Am I complaining?” he sealed his mouth over Steve’s and straddled Steve’s thighs bringing them together full on skin to skin for the first time ever. Steve drew in a deep breath and buried his face in Christian’s neck as he squirmed just a little.  “Am I too heavy for you?” Christian nuzzled Steve’s left ear.

            “Don’t.  You.  Move …” Steve growled and shifted just a bit more.  Their cocks came into perfect alignment between their bellies and both men groaned at their most intimate contact yet.  “That’s better,” Steve sighed and licked at Christian’s left earlobe before sucking it into his mouth and nipping the soft flesh.

            Christian shuddered in pleasure and goosebumps broke out all over his body.  “Oh … My …God,” he whimpered.  He gave his own little shimmy and nearly came unglued from the delicious friction.  “Are you okay with this?” he asked and nosed his way through Steve’s hair to suck gently at the pulse point under his ear.

            “Oh, I am so much more than okay with this,” Steve responded and fitted his hands around the muscular globes of Christian’s ass to pull him even closer and began a slow, sweet thrusting motion as he captured Christian’s mouth using his tongue to mimic the rocking motion of their hips.

            They broke for air and a particularly forceful push from Christian brought a sharp cry from Steve’s lips.  Christian cupped Steve’s face between his strong hands and kissed him softly.  “Shhhhh.  We have to keep the noise down, babe.  The neighbors can’t see us but they’re still close enough to hear us.  Okay?”

            Steve grinned wolfishly and upped the ante by renewing the stroking motion of his hips; he muffled his groans by sucking on Christian’s collar bone.  Christian subdued his own moans in the crook of Steve’s neck and moved in counterpoint to Steve.  The rhythm was as old as time itself and as their pace increased the water slopped over the edges of the hot tub, drenching the deck in chlorinated water.  Christian stiffened first as he fell over the precipice; Steve watched his lover’s face as he came and that was enough to send him over the brink as well.  

            Their shudders eventually subsided and they finally settled into their original position with Christian still straddling Steve’s lap and their heads resting on each other’s shoulders as panted breaths wafted over goose pimpled flesh which still twitched in reaction to their explosive climaxes.  Eventually they recovered enough to lift their heads and it only took a moment before their mouths reconnected with hungry wet kisses while their hands explored everywhere they could reach.

            Steve sniffed noisily and used one hand to wipe at his eyes.

            “Babe?” Christian asked worriedly.

            “God!  I feel like such a girl, Chris,” Steve choked out.  “Sorry about that.”

            Christian shook his head, “No need to apologize.  You went through hell with all of this.  I get it.  Like I said, now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

            A shaky smile accompanied Steve’s nod, “After the past few days … Honestly? … I never thought this could happen.”  A shadow passed over Steve’s face as the remembered stress and strain of the week flitted through his mind.

            “Shhhh, darlin’, come here,” Christian pulled Steve into a protective embrace.  “It’s over and done with.  Now it’s me … and you … together.  Okay?”  Steve nodded but didn’t trust his voice to make it past the huge lump in this throat; moisture welled once more in his eyes.  “Aw hell,” Christian murmured and kissed away the impending tears.  “Now what do you say we finish our soak.  Then we go out to breakfast before we hit the road and I show you around my home away from home.”

            “Sounds good to me,” Steve grinned and blushed a little.  “Wanna share the shower?”

            Christian barked out a deep belly laugh, “We may never get past the bathroom if we do that but I’m game if you are.”

            “Cool!” Steve responded and tangled their fingers together.  He raised them out of the water to plant a soft kiss on their joined knuckles and then brought them back underwater still entwined.

            Christian finally shifted off of Steve’s lap and helped the younger man rub the pins and needles out of his thighs.  They settled in to soak quietly for a while and didn’t even move when the Portland sky blessed them with a slight drizzle.  The feel of the cool droplets on their faces was an amazing contrast with the warm jets of bubbles fizzing around their bodies.

             

            When the two men finally went inside, the answering machine was showing four messages waiting.  Christian headed for the machine as Steve passed him by and grabbed orange juice and glasses for both of them.  As they drank their juice they listened as Eric, Dean Devlin, Tim Hutton and John Rodgers checked in to see how they were doing.

            Christian chuckled at the chagrinned look on Steve’s face.  “You – uh – forget something?”

            “Kinda?” Steve squirmed.  “I was supposed to call them and let them know how you were doing.  The last anyone heard was when Tim and John were here the other day.”

            “Oops!” Christian snorted.  “I’ll take John and Dean, you call Eric and Tim.  Whoever’s done first gets to warm up the shower.”

            Steve skidded down the hall to grab his cell phone nearly losing his loosely wrapped towel in the process.  His phone calls only took a few minutes each but he knew Christian would be a while since his conversations would be more business oriented.  As soon as he hung up he started the shower, climbing in once the water warmed up enough to suit him.

            A waft of cool air heralded Christian’s arrival into the warm, steamy cubicle and soon Steve was enveloped in a strong embrace with Christian’s heat plastered all down his back.

            “You tryin’ to start without me?” Christian purred and nuzzled Steve’s damp hair to bite his earlobe.

            “No-o-o-o,” Steve shuddered as Christian palmed his nipples coaxing them into hardened peaks.  He tried to turn around to face his tormentor but Christian held him firmly in place.

            “Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” Christian growled.  “I got you right where I want you.”  Giving a pinch to each sensitive nub, Christian trailed his fingers down Steve’s sides circling his right hand around Steve’s cock while his left hand played with his heavy balls.

            When Steve tried to bring his own hands around to join Christian’s, Christian bit his earlobe again saying, “Let me do this for you, okay?” Steve nodded and moved his hands back so he could anchor himself with a firm grip on Christian’s hips as Christian increased the pace of his hand.  Steve moaned and he began thrusting to match the rhythm of Christian’s strokes.  “That’s it, baby,” Christian whispered and tongued the side of his lover’s neck.  “Let me hear you.”  A loud groan came from deep in Steve’s throat and his head fell back to rest on Christian’s shoulder.

            Christian was beyond turned on by the reactions he was getting from Steve but as close as he knew Steve was he knew he was even closer himself.  It would take so little to tip both of them over the edge.  He stopped fondling Steve’s balls just long enough to guide his cock between Steve’s strong thighs giving himself the sweet friction he craved; the feel of the head of his penis nudging against Steve’s balls with every thrust was an added bonus.

            “Chris! … God! … Chris!” Steve called out hoarsely as the movement of his hips became more and more erratic.

            “Fuck yeah!  That’s it,” Christian rasped, his hands blurring on Steve’s shaft as he pounded faster into the warm slick tunnel of Steve’s thighs.  “Come for me, Stevie!”

            Steve cried out sharply as his entire body convulsed and shuddered through his climax.  Christian was right there with him, biting on Steve’s shoulder blade as he came and locking his legs to keep both of them from taking a tumble in the aftermath.  Christian leaned wearily against the back wall of the shower to help support Steve who was a wrung out rag doll in his arms.

            “Sweet Jesus, Chris,” Steve finally said as he regained his senses and the use of his limbs.  He turned and took Christian into his arms to kiss him soundly.

            Christian smiled into the kiss and threaded his fingers through Steve’s hair to prolong the contact.  Pulling away gently he said, “Let’s finish up here.  I think I know where I wanna take you for breakfast.  And don’t forget to bring your camera for after.”

            “Sounds nice,” Steve smiled lopsidedly and handed Christian the shampoo as he grabbed for the body wash.

             

            The place Christian chose for breakfast was a tiny hole in the wall family owned restaurant that served country breakfasts that rivaled his mama’s special meals.  Christian was a regular there and Keri and her husband spoiled him and Steve rotten from the time they walked through the door with a never ending supply of hot coffee and plates piled high with enough food to feed a small army.  They were even sent on their way with more coffee in ‘to go’ cups and a big bag of fresh sweet pastries for the road.

            As Christian pulled the car smoothly out of the parking lot, Steve loosened his belt and popped open the button on his jeans.  “I don’t know how in the hell you stay in shape if they feed you like that all the time,” he signed and rubbed the slight belly bulge he was now sporting.

            “It ain’t easy but you know we got that great workout room on set,” Christian smiled.  “And I been meaning to tell ya, you’re not doin’ too shabby in the gettin’ in shape department.  The yoga and workouts are lookin’ good on you.”

            Steve blushed and ducked his head as he fiddled with the camera Christian had insisted he bring.  “So … where’re we going?” he reached out and grasped Christian’s right hand with his left and twined their fingers together.

            Christian chuckled at the playful tone and said, “I know you usually don’t have any extra time to spend when you come up here to play to I thought I’d take you on the ‘Infinity Loop’ drive.  There’s a bunch of waterfalls along the way and if you don’t mind a bit of a hike there’s a spot you can go and see most of the biggest mountain peaks on a good day.”  A frown crossed Steve’s face at the last comment.  “What?  What’s with the look?” Christian asked.

            “Ease up there, cowboy,” Steve countered.  “I’m just thinking that you’re still not one hundred percent – and I’m not afraid to admit that neither am I – so the hike might not be the best idea yet … for either of us.”

            “Good point,” Christian agreed.  “It’s not like we won’t have time … Wait … Did you call me ‘cowboy’?”

            “If the boot fits,” Steve said with a straight face and snapped a quick picture of the incredulous look aimed at him from the other side of the car.

            “I’ll show you exactly where my boot can fit, Carlson,” Christian smirked and pulled into the first vista point on their route.

             

            Both men were pleasantly tired at the end of their long day of sightseeing.  It was late and they were looking very much forward to locking up the house and heading to bed for a good night’s sleep.  They had stopped in at a little Italian place for pizza so their first top was the kitchen to put the leftovers away and grab some water for the bedside tables.

            Steve was nearly asleep on his feet so it surprised him when Christian grabbed his hand to lead him to the guest room.  “Um, Chris?  What’re we doin’ in here?”

            Christian rolled his eyes, “Your stuff – it’s all in here, man.  We need to move it back to where it belongs.  C’mon, Sleepy … Or would that be Dopey?”

            “And that would make you … Grumpy?” Steve snorted and skipped out of the way of a head slap.

            A deep sigh passed Christian’s lips followed by a snort of laughter.  Life with Steve was gonna be anything but boring.

            It took very little time to move Steve’s things – including the ‘burn your fingers off’ photo – in to Christian’s room.  And not long after that they were a comfortable tangle of naked limbs in the middle of Christian’s big bed exchanging sleepy, toothpaste flavored kisses.  Pulling away slowly, Steve made sure he had Christian’s full attention when he said, “Thank you so much for today.  It was really nice.”  He paused briefly and continued, “I love you so damned much, Christian Kane.”

            The breath wooshed out of Christian with an audible sound.  In his mind he knew – hell he and Steve had both said the words the day before even if in jest.  But to hear it said now – and with such ocnviction – rocked him to his very core.  A sensation of deepest warmth worked its way from his chest and infused his entire body with a feeling he was pretty sure he’d never experienced before.  He kissed Steve soundly and then looked him directly in the eyes when he responded, “I love you too, Steven Paul Carlson.”

            “Wow … Wow!” even in the darkened bedroom Steve’s smile was blinding.

            Christian held him closer and whispered, “What?  You didn’t think I could say it?” he dropped another kiss on Steve’s throat.

            “No!  Nothing like that,” Steve replied with a hint of embarrassment as he started to squirm.

            “Calm down,” Christian said gently and started a soothing petting over the bare skin of Steve’s stomach.  “Hey!  Didn’t you say Eric cleared the books for us for the next two weeks?”

            “Um … yeah?” came the sleepy response.  “Why?”

            “I’m thinking that sounds like the perfect honeymoon to me.”

            “Awww.  My boyfriend is genius,” Steve turned on his side and looped his arm around Christian’s waist as his leg draped across the strong thighs.

            “Boyfriend?” Christian continued his calming touches on the smooth skin of Steve’s hip.

            “Yeah.  S’at okay?” Steve’s words were slurring more as he moved closer to sleep.

            “That is very okay,” Christian affirmed as he finally felt Steve relax into the arms of Morpheus.  “For now,” he smiled.

            &&&&&&&

The End


End file.
